


The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

by Echo (Lyrecho)



Series: we are made of star-stuff [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: #PrinceConsort, #theprinceandthepauper, Allusions To Fabula Nova Crystallis, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF!Prompto, Feat. Lunafreya: Ultimate Wingwoman, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Lore Building, M/M, Noctis Is A Smitten Dork, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Prompt Fic, Semi Christmas Theme, Semi MT!Prompto, Set Pre-Game, Sexy Times in Part VI, Snowed In, Social Media, We're Going On A Roadtrip, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000, Wordcount: Over 50.000, accidental Marriage Proposal, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:24:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 70,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrecho/pseuds/Echo
Summary: The annual Cosmolatry festival is coming up to celebrate the New Year in Tenebrae, and Noctis only wants to take one person with him. Unfortunately, life is never easy and the fates have other plans. |Tumblr| |Twitter|





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, wherever you may be in the world, Merry Christmas!
> 
> To the person this fic is gifted too: I know you were expecting something short, sweet and complete. But since I am apparently incapable of those three things, you got this monster instead.
> 
> ... I am _so sorry_.
> 
> I'm hoping to get the last (two?) part(s) out before the New Year, so let's keep our fingers crossed!
> 
> Once more, Merry Christmas!
> 
> (Also, Tumblr has been glitching like _hell_ for me recently, if you have any questions, queries, or just want to talk - either comment down below or PM me on ff.net, because I can't guarantee seeing anything you send me via Tumblr :/)
> 
> Story related notes at end.
> 
> (I can literally feel you all judging me and I would like to take this time to remind you that 12:45 am on December 25th is still Christmas and so I am perfectly justified in posting this now.)

Once upon a time, Cosmolatry had been Noctis' favourite time of year. Snow? Meant no school. Days of quiet reflection to honor the Six? Meant his dad could actually spend some time with him. The gala held every year in Tenebrae on the first day of Cosmolatry to welcome in the festive season and honour the Oracle? Meant that he got to see Luna, in person, not just talking irregularly to her through a book passed between them by Umbra. During Cosmolatry, even the empire wasn't a problem - since the Cosmolatry period was to honour the Six active war or work was _forbidden_ , and no-one ever broke that rule since, well, who actually _wants_ to get smote or cursed?

So, yeah. Cosmolatry was great - or at least it had been, all throughout childhood and his early teens. Now, though, he was an 'adult.'

"Noctis, you are eighteen years old." His father frowned at him from his seat behind his desk in the office that he held the meetings he knew could contain a bit more yelling than was preferred for a public forum, so Noctis could already _tell_ bad news was coming. "I think it's about time that we started to get the world used to the idea of power transitioning from me to you." He grimaced as he said this, and Noctis' fists clenched at the reminder of how the crystal was draining the life out of his father.

"I don't see what that has to do with the holiday season," he said instead of bringing up the matter, trying for a lightheartedness in his tone that he didn't actually feel. "It's not like anyone is working during it anyway - not even you, Your Majesty."

His father laughed, and shook his head. "Maybe not outright," he agreed. "But not even for the sake of the Six will the world stop turning, and work as a king is more than just _physical_ , my son." He raised his brows at Noctis, who was feeling more and more confused by the second. "Every year at the Gala you and Lunafreya run off until she has to perform the ceremony to usher in a new year, and even then you make yourself scarce." There was a teasing sort of disapproval in his father's eyes, so Noctis shrugged with a smile, fighting down the blush that threatened light up his face in red.

"It's just...the people there. The - the girls. They're always so... _forward_."

His father snorted. "It comes with the territory of being a prince," he laughed. "Never mind the fact that you're not _too_ unfortunate looking."

"Thanks," Noctis stated dryly.

"My point is, my son, you cannot keep doing this. It was acceptable while you were a child; for the past few years, less so, but not so much that it could not be forgiven as a slight. But the fact of the matter is that you are an adult. You are a _prince_ , and one day you shall be _king_. You cannot hide away in the shadows, or behind me and trust that I will take care of everything. Because while I wish it could always be so, one day I will not be there, Noctis."

Noctis shook his head mutely, and his father sighed. "You'll be going alone this year," he said quietly. "The sole Lucian representative."

His mind screeched to a halt. "What," he said flatly.

"Well, I suppose there _is_ your plus one..." his father mused, and gave him a wide-eyed look from across the surface of the desk. “Have anyone in mind?"

"What? - No, just - just explain yourself a bit more clearly, please. I literally have no idea what you're going on about, dad."

"It's time to make your true debut into society, Noctis. During Cosmolatry, you won't be attacked, so I feel safe in sending you outside the wall without me or some of the Crownsguard in tow."

Noctis blinked. "They can't come?"

His father laughed. "Cosmolatry is a holiday for them too, you know," he said. "And besides, the invitation is for two people. You, and whomever you choose to take with you."

Noctis knew he was staring - gaping, wide-eyed and slack-jawed at his father, probably looking as if he had taken one too many hard hits to the head courtesy of Gladio - but he couldn't stop, and just shook his head in disbelief as his father continued to smile, mischief playing in his eyes. "You want me to _politic_ ," he said incredulously. " _Me_."

"Well, Cor and Clarus did warn me that just throwing you in like this was akin to feeding you, gift-wrapped, to the hungry sharks that make up the upper echelon of Eos' nobility - but you're my son. I know very well what you are capable of, and I know you will handle yourself with all the grace and dignity afforded to one of the Caelum line."

"This is going to be a _disaster_ ," Noctis realised, his mind in a daze.

"Oh, come now," his father said. "You could show a little more optimism, Noctis. Now, about you're plus one - "

Noctis jolted to attention. There was no way of getting out of this, he saw that now - but perhaps he could at least make it less painful for himself. "I can take _anyone_ I want?" he sought clarification carefully.

"Within reason," his father agreed. "I can't let you take Cor. Then I would be _lonely_."

The two of them grinned at each other as Noctis imagined Cor's face if his father said that directly to him. "No," he laughed, shaking his head. "No, I was wondering - would it be okay, if I took Prompto?"

It clearly took a moment for his father to realise who he was talking about - and once recognition had flared across his face, he quirked an eyebrow at Noctis. "Your imaginary friend?" He asked, and Noctis scowled.

"He's real," he stated bluntly. "Gladio and Ignis just started calling him that because they haven't met him yet."

"Well, no-one here has," his father pointed out. "You've been guarding this friend of yours very jealously, my son." As Noctis fidgeted in his seat at those words, his father's eyes narrowed. "I don't feel comfortable letting you leave the city with a boy I don't know, let alone one that hasn't been vetted yet."

Noctis blinked. "Cor did background checks on him," he said, confused. "He told me he did, and that that was why I was allowed to keep hanging out with Prompto - because he was clean. Just like any other crown citizen."

" _Hmm_ ," his father hummed. "Cor never told this to me...though maybe he just never felt the need to bother me, if it turned out the boy was nobody to worry about..." he trailed off, lost in thought and eyes a million miles away before his gaze snapped abruptly back to Noctis. "Take your friend if you want to," he allowed. "But both of you have to be on your _best behaviour._ You'll be representing Insomnia, and Lucis, at the biggest event of the year." He grimaced. "Your friend will have to come into the palace before you leave, so we can get him fitted for some proper attire," he said. "Can you get him to come by tomorrow?"

Noctis nodded, and sensing the dismissal that was about to come his way, pushed his chair away from his father's desk and stood. "I'll see you later?" He asked.

"Of course," his father replied, and Noctis exited the room, pulling his phone from his pocket as he left.

 _You free tomorrow?_ He typed out, and his phone buzzed with a reply almost immediately after hitting ‘send.’

 _Got nothing to do but study,_ he read out. _Why?_

 _I may or may not have roped you into coming as my plus one to the gala at Tenebrae_ , he responded. _You don’t have to come, but if you do, you kind of need some proper formal wear…Also, my dad wants to meet you._

 _ಠ_ ___ _ಠ_ _dude. Why._

_I panicked, okay? Like I said, you don’t have to come._

_No, I’m cool with coming. The Cosmolatry Gala, right? I’ve always wanted to see it in person; I’ve only ever seen the broadcasts of Lady Lunafreya performing the rites. I’m just…kind of terrified of your dad._

_Well, don’t be. He’ll like you just fine._

_If he doesn’t?_

_Then I’ll protect you._

_You haven’t even introduced me to your friends yet, why would your father as a first introduction be any better_

_…so are you coming tomorrow or what?_

_I have an interview in the morning, pick me up around noon?_

_Sure. Hey, if you want, Ignis can even drive – that way you’re meeting one of my friends before my dad._

_Sounds cool to me_ _♡_ _٩_ _( ˃́_ _▿_ _˂_ _̀ )_ _۶_ _♡_

_You’re so fucking weird._

-x-

The next day dawns clear and warm and bright, and Noctis immediately shuffles out of his room to find a spot of warmth to curl up in before Ignis hunts him down to go and collect Prompto. Because his friends have _literally no chill_ , Gladio is coming too – to meet Prompto, they say, but Noctis isn’t as oblivious as they like to pretend he is, and he can read between the lines well enough to know they’re going for intimidation.

Lying in what may be some of the last warmth of the year as Luna ushers in winter during the Cosmolatry, Noctis considered texting or calling his friend to warn him that he was likely going to be facing multiple interrogations one after another today, before he remembered that he had some sort of interview that morning.

He hadn’t asked what the interview had been for – a job or college, probably; they’d finished their final exams only the week earlier and the actual graduation ceremony took place _after_ Cosmolatry, but unlike Noctis, who would now be thrown headfirst into politics and preparations for him to take the throne, Prompto, being a civilian, would need a job and certifications.

He lifted his hips to wiggle his phone out of the jeans he wore, squinting at the sun in his eyes as he collapsed back down into the shade that covered one end of the bench he was lying on in the palace gardens, just enough to keep his face covered. He flicked his phone’s screen into life and opened up Sensa, the app that Prompto had _made_ him get – _so we can keep in contact better!_ He’d said brightly. _Also, I expect you to like every single photo I post._ (“You just want free advertisement from the Prince of Lucis endorsing your page,” Noctis had responded dryly, but had clicked to follow his friend anyway. It’s not like he’d had any reason _not_ to) – and scrolled through his almost depressingly small friends list, all of them mutuals: Gladio, Ignis, Iris, Luna, Prompto and some girl whose name he had _never_ recognised but he could only presume that Prompto had put in when he’d set the app and his account up for him before Noctis had managed to snatch it away – his friend had a habit of kind of going overboard in his eagerness.

He tapped his way to Prompto’s page – mostly photos and comments from people that Noctis vaguely recognised as being in the photography club – but there were a few status’ written by Prompto himself, the most recent one written only a few hours earlier.

_Got an interview downtown at the Insomnia branch of Eos Worldwide Photography! Hoping for an internship!_

There were several comments written in the chat beneath the status itself – mostly congratulations and ‘good lucks!’ – but instead of reading through them in any great detail, Noctis backed out of Prompto’s page, and pressed down on Luna’s name once he was back at his friends list.

As her page loaded, a chat icon beeped into view and he hit in, bringing up an IM between him and Luna.

The empire watched her phone, it was true – reading over her texts and call history, so they’d never been able to keep in contact that way, not for fear of drawing their ire on Luna if they’d seen she was in contact with the Crown Prince of their one and only remaining enemy state. However, Sensa was special in that history could be deleted without any trace that any interaction had taken place at all. Noctis never deleted his own chat logs – but he knew that Luna must do so religiously, and wondered what she wanted to talk about.

> | **lunaroracle:** you’re coming to the gala, right?  
>  | **noctis_caelum:** yeah. bringing a friend, too.  
>  | **lunaroracle:** !!! can’t wait  
>  | **lunaroracle:** which friend?  
>  | **noctis_caelum:** prompto  
>  | **lunaroracle:** that’s the cute one, right?  
>  | **lunaroracle:** the blond photographer.  
>  | **noctis_caelum:** that’s him.  
>  | **noctis_caelum:** i’ll let him know that you think he’s cute. he’ll be flattered.  
>  | **lunaroracle:** tell him i’m excited to meet him, too.  
>  | **noctis_caelum:** will do

Luna’s name in the chat greyed out, and Noctis blinked as she suddenly disconnected without warning. He didn’t worry, though – over the years, since he’d first signed on to Sensa, the times Luna was available to talk were far and few between, and often cut really short by the fact that she had to exit out of the app and clear her history with no warning if someone – like Ravus – came into whatever room she was in at the time. He sighed, and placed his phone down; lay his arm down across his eyes, fully intending to cat nap in the sun until Ignis came to drag him to the car.

It felt like he’d only just closed his eyes when a hand on his shoulder shook him awake – but the position of the sun in the sky, now directly above his head and blinding him, told him that that wasn’t the case at all. He’d had to have been napping for at least two hours, and Ignis’ face blinked into view above him as he drew away from the realm of sleep.

“Time already?” He asked as he sat up and stretched, yawning.

Gladio grinned down at him. “What? You nervous about introducing your new friend to your old buddies?”

“Prompto is hardly a ‘new’ friend,” Ignis stated wryly. “Don’t forget, Noctis met him four years ago.”

“ _True_ ,” Gladio said. “Should we be offended that we mean so little to our dear prince, Iggy?”

“Well, that depends,” Ignis said, and Noctis rolled his eyes as he stood up.

“You guys are such dorks,” he interrupted, and tried to ignore the teasing smirks being sent his way. “I said I was sorry for not introducing you sooner, okay?”

“We know, and we forgive you,” Gladio said. “Doesn’t mean we’re going to let you off the hook for it any time soon.”

“I hate you,” Noctis said, with feeling. “ _Both_ of you.”

Ignis laughed. “We should get to the car,” he said. “We don’t want to keep your friend – or your father – waiting to long.”

“I’m sure Prompto wouldn’t mind,” Noctis said. “He’d probably be glad for the opportunity to delay meeting you all, especially my dad. He’s nervous.”

“Nervous? What’s there to be nervous about?” Gladio smiled in a way that showed off all of his teeth, and Noctis shook his head at him.

“Please don’t smile like that at him,” he said. “He’s already half convinced I haven’t introduced you guys yet because you’re going to eat him alive.”

|[-O-]|

It occurred to Prompto that today was perhaps not the best day to be taking an important, major interview – ever since Noctis had texted him the day before he’d been caught in a mixture of excitement and near overwhelming nerves. Of course he wanted to go on a trip with his best friend – getting out of Insomnia during the one time a year it was safe to? Awesome idea. Going to the Cosmolatry Gala and (maybe) getting to meet the Lady Lunafreya? Even _awesomer_.

The fact that it was an official trip, meaning he’d have to be introduced to the king? That he’d be – in some way – representing Lucis?

Absolutely terrifying, and not for no reason – Cor Leonis had turned up at his doorstep that morning, before he’d even had a chance to properly walk out the door, and had strong-armed him into his car.

“You’ve got an interview downtown, right?” The Lord Marshall had asked him, while Prompto was busy freaking out in the passenger seat. “I’ll give you a lift.”

“Um – thanks?” Prompto said, and tried valiantly not to fidget. “I guess?”

“Prompto,” Cor said. “You know that leaving Insomnia is dangerous, don’t you?” Even though they were in a car – a moving car, and Cor was _driving_ – he turned in his seat to lock eyes with Prompto, his expression serious.

“Of course I know that,” Prompto muttered after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “But – it’s during Cosmolatry. Even Niflheim won’t risk attacking Noct during a sacred period.”

“No, they won’t,” Cor agreed, and signaled a turn. “But it’s not His Highness I’m worried about.” His eyes flicked to Prompto’s wrist, and even though both his sleeve and a beaten leather band covered them, Prompto felt the urge to hide his codeprints underneath his other hand. “Here, there aren’t many people who would know what those were – but there will be Niflheim officials in Tenebrae, and if they catch sight of them –”

“I know,” Prompto interrupted tensely. “You think I don’t?”

“Your mother,” Cor said. “She brought you to Insomnia so the wall could keep you safe. I don’t think she would be happy to know you were risking that safety for the sake of a whim.”

“Well, you’d know that better than I would,” Prompto said, not without bitterness. “I don’t even know her _name_.”

“I never knew it either,” Cor said. “She never told me. It wasn’t relevant. All she wanted was you kept safe.” He raised an eyebrow at Prompto. “So, you’re really going with the prince, then?”

“He already asked me, and I already said yes,” Prompto pointed out. “It would be weird to back out now.”

“Hmm,” Cor hummed, and pulled into a parking spot. “Maybe. This is your stop, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” Prompto looked out of the window, so distracted by his own thoughts that he hadn’t realised they had pulled up at the office for EWP – one of the only organisations in Insomnia that ran worldwide, and not only within Lucis or the wall of Insomnia; thus, one of the largest.

“Good luck with your interview, kid.” Cor unlocked his door, and taking the hint, Prompto slid his way out of the Lord Marshall’s car. “I’ll probably be seeing you at the palace later. You know the drill –”

“We’ve never met before, I know.” Prompto rolled his eyes. “So go away before someone recognises you and takes a shot, old man.”

Cor frowned. “Guns are illegal in Insomnia,” he said. “And who would be stupid enough to shoot up a crowded street in broad daylight?”

Prompto blinked. “No, I – I meant, like, with a camera. As in, ‘what if someone takes a photo of you and me together and uploads it to Sensa?’ Because then, it would be obvious we know each other.”

“Ah,” Cor said. “I see. I have it on good authority that it isn’t just the prince and Count Scientia coming to pick you up after your interview anymore – Gladiolus Amicitia is inviting himself along for an introduction, and he’ll probably be playing up the intimidation factor, so try not to stress too much. It wouldn’t be good for anyone if you reached your limit before you even had a chance to meet the King.”

With that, Cor drove off, and Prompto was left standing on the street, realizing only now that he was still wearing the worn jeans and blue button up over a white tank top that he had thrown on when he’d woken up that morning – he’d planned to dress in something more formal for the interview itself, but Cor had turned up when he was checking the mail and then everything had gone topsy-turvy and _not_ according to his plan.

He sighed, closed his eyes, steeled himself, and headed into the building behind him.

The Insomnia office for EWP was deceptively small at first inside glance, the walls a muted cream lit by warm yellow lamps fixed on the walls and trees wrapped in sparkling LEDs. All in all, a pretty typical reception area, with a desk situated against the wall that faced the revolving glass doors and a woman smiling prettily from behind it, looking up from her computer as he stepped in.

"Good morning, sir," she greeted with a winning smile, and even through his nerves Prompto marveled at her ability to be polite. With his hair a certifiable mess and dressed like someone who loitered around skate parks for fun, he in no way rated a 'sir.' "Are you here for enquiries, or are you looking to book an appointment?"

"Actually, I have an interview," Prompto said, and handed over the printout of his appointment time when she held her hand out for it.

"Just one moment, sir," she said, and when she smiled at him this time it was somehow even brighter than before. _Wild_.

She turned her attention back to her computer, clicked through several things and spent a good solid minute typing at a lightning speed that had his fingers aching - and then she was handing him the form back and pointing to the sleek elevator doors positioned next to her desk. "Madame Jocasta will see you now," she said. "Good luck!"

He smiled tightly back at her in thanks, and entered the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor - the ninth. His hands were shaking slightly as he felt that familiar swoop of being in an elevator hit his stomach; Jocasta Forma was an _artist_ on a whole other level, other _plane_ then him. When he'd applied for an interview with Eos Worldwide Photography, he'd expected to meet with one of the photographers or executives lower in the hierarchy, _maybe_ one of Madame Jocasta's protégées if he was _lucky_. He'd never even imagined meeting the legend herself in person, one of the greatest inspirations in his own work as his love for photography in high school grew to something more than just a hobby - and honestly, when weighing his nerves from meeting the Madame to meeting the King later on in the day, it wasn't the royal that made him break out in a cold sweat. King Regis was Noct's dad; even if he didn't _like_ Prompto _personally_ , he would probably be polite to him as his son's friend and a - technical - crown citizen. Madame Jocasta Forma had no such history with him and if he didn't impress - not only would he be _crushed,_ there would be no reason for her to be gentle with him or his feelings.

The elevator stopped. Prompto took a deep breath as the doors slid open with a _ding_ , and stepped out to enter straight into Madame Jocasta's office - the only room on the floor being her own studio, which also served as her office.

It was _beautiful_ \- though the walls were almost entirely made of thick glass windows, blackout blinds had been drawn across to block out the daylight thoroughly, the only light in the room currently coming from the industrial style hanging lights hooked up to the rafters of the high ceiling, washing over the portraits hanging about in a glare of almost ultra-violet white.

For a moment, he just stared - gaze catching on some of Madame Jocasta's most famous shots, hung up in places of pride on the few actual _walls_ there was, but also many scattered along desks, hanging from strings, printed to canvas and silk and draped across floors and windows like curtains. The entire room was an explosion of _art_ , of his idol's signature style, and he couldn't help but feel awed and privileged just to catch a _glimpse_ of it.

A tiny, miniscule amount of his nerves faded away, and he felt his shoulders relax as he took in the genuine warmth that filled every part of the room. He took in a shaky breath. _He could do this_.

"Well, you're already off to a good start."

Prompto jumped, not expecting a voice to break the silence that filled the room the same way it filled temples and ruins; sacred places of memory and worship and _art_ \- and whirled to see Madame Jocasta smiling at him faintly.

She looked similar to photos he had seen of her, just older, greyer - and a lot more approachable, dressed not in the fancy and elaborate gowns she wore to her exhibitions, but in semi-casual slacks and a loose, ruffled blouse in the same shade of deep green as her eyes.

He felt his eyes widen, and he blushed as she laughed at his evident surprise.

"The way you looked, when you walked into this room..." her smile widened, and she tilted her head at him as he stared. "You truly, genuinely love photography. That's a good start. In fact, that's a _great_ start. If you want to make a career in photography - the first thing to do is love it."

"What's the second?" Prompto asked, curious.

"Well, to love what you're photographing," she answered. "And then after that, to love what you _have_ photographed. You're capturing moments in time; you need to be able to _feel_ the memories when you look at your pictures, as strong as you did when you first pressed down on the shutter." She smiled, and gestured to one of the tables littered about the room, scattered all over with photos, but with chairs positioned alongside it.

"I've read through your high school transcripts, and what you have planned for university next year," Madame Jocasta said as they sat down. "I've also looked through the pictures you sent with your application, and I liked them. A lot." She laughed at how Prompto blushed and stuttered out his thanks. "They're not perfect shots, of course, and I've seen better - but you're young, so you'll improve with a bit of coaching. For someone self-taught, you seem to have an instinctive grasp of lighting and colour, and the way you capture movement is beautiful - you can read what happened in the moments before you snapped the picture and what will come after." She shook her head. "With that said, your angles could use a little work and the focus of your shots, too. They're very beautiful pictures, Prompto, and I can feel the emotion and passion you've put into them - but that's it. And if you want to work in my studios, I need you to be able to tell me a _story_ with your photos."

Prompto nodded. "A picture is worth a thousand words," he parroted, and Madame Jocasta nodded.

"I have some more questions," she said. "Are you ready?"

-x-

An hour later, dazed and drained, Prompto exited the elevator back on the first floor.

"How did you go?" The receptionist that had wished him luck before he headed up was smiling at him once again, and he could only shrug in answer.

"Madame Jocasta was nicer than I expected," he said. "But that just means I can't tell if she liked my work or was just trying to not make me cry in her studio, and I'm going to get a rejection letter in a few weeks."

The receptionist - _Cammie_ , her tag read - laughed. "Oh, don't be silly." She said brightly. "Or course you won't get a letter! If she didn't really like your work, then you'd get a _call_ after Cosmolatry. We here at Eos Worldwide Photography seek to deliver the most human experience we can to our clients, to show we care about them. We'd never send even a rejectee something as impersonal as a letter."

Prompto blinked. "Thanks," he said dryly. "That...does not make me feel better. At all."

"You're smiling, though," Cammie pointed out, and he realised - huh, yes, he _was_. "Add me on Sensa," she said as he headed for the revolving doors. "Cameron Lila. If we're going to be working together here, we should get to know each other better, don't you think?"

Prompto paused in the doorway. "You don't know I'm going to get a job," he said, and she laughed.

"I have a good feeling about you," she said, and after an exchange of friend requests, Prompto was back out on the street Cor had dropped him off at what felt like a _lifetime_ ago - to realise, he had no idea if Noctis was coming to pick him up yet. Had the interview run for longer or shorter than he had expected?

He pulled out his phone to see no texts or miscalls - and when he opened up Sensa Noct's name was grayed out in his friends list; he wasn't online, then.

But someone else _was_ \- the one person he actually had met from quote unquote 'the palace,' the Lady Iris Amicitia, whom he had encountered by complete accident in a mall downtown one day, and who had recognised him from a photo on Noct's phone that she had seen when borrowing it to amuse herself by playing King's Knight while her brother and the prince practiced swordplay. She'd introduced herself by attaching herself to his arm and chattering at him for the rest of the day - and given the fact that she had been surrounded by exasperated looking Crownsguard and had been, like, twelve at the time, he hadn't shaken her off.

By the end of the day, they'd exchanged numbers and added each other on Sensa, and if it wasn't for the fact that Noct already held that title - then maybe, in another world, the two of _them_ would have been best friends.

> | **quicksilver:** any idea what noct's up to?  
>  | **zephyr:** napping, probably  
>  | **zephyr:** never mind that!  
>  | **zephyr:** the interview!  
>  | **zephyr:** how did it go?  
>  | **quicksilver:** fine, i think?  
>  | **zephyr:** you 'think'?  
>  | **quicksilver:** im not good at reading people ok  
>  | **quicksilver:** she was nice tho  
>  | **quicksilver:** lotsa smiles.  
>  | **zephyr:** since i wasn't there myself, i can't tell if that's good or no.  
>  | **zephyr:** people at the palace smile all the time when you just KNOW all they wanna do is stab you.  
>  | **quicksilver:** weirdly specific, iris  
>  | **zephyr:** not really.  
>  | **zephyr:** i reminded gladdy that he has prior arrangements.  
>  | **zephyr:** he and ignis are hunting noct down now  
>  | **zephyr:** they should be picking you up soon.  
>  | **quicksilver:** ok real talk real quick  
>  | **quicksilver:** how hard is your brother going to kill me when he knows we hang out.  
>  | **zephyr:** ???  
>  | **quicksilver:** because he seems like that kind of guy  
>  | **zephyr:** gladdy's a teddy bear  
>  | **quicksilver:** yah and you're his sister  
>  | **quicksilver:** you don't get to make impartial judgements about his threat level to my continued survival  
>  | **zephyr:** honestly at most he'll act jealous. maybe offended.  
>  | **zephyr:** he and ignis have been bugging noct for AGGGEEESSSSS to introduce you to them  
>  | **quicksilver:** well why didn't he  
>  | **zephyr:** hell if i know  
>  | **zephyr:** it's noct  
>  | **zephyr:** why does  
>  | **zephyr:** he do anything.

Prompto was just about to type in a laughing agreement as a reply when his phone buzzed in his hand - _Noctis_ flashed across the top of the screen momentarily and he quickly switched from Sensa to the in-built messaging system of his phone.

 _Headed your way,_ he read, and then a question quickly followed: _you're still at this address, aren't you?_

 _Yeah,_ he shot back, and received a reply almost immediately.

_5 mins._

Prompto nodded, and sighed, and wondered at the fact that his encounter with _the_ legendary Madame Jocasta had seemingly wiped every bit of his nerves from his body - hopefully, he thought, that calm collectedness would last long enough for him _not_ to make a fool of himself in front of the King.

|[-O-]|

When Prompto slid into the car, he was, to Noctis’ surprise, completely calm, with a grin on his face.

He blinked. “You okay?” He asked as Prompto strapped himself in.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Prompto smiled. “Good interview.”

“Good to know,” Noctis said, and flicked his gaze to Gladiolus, sitting in the passenger seat beside Ignis and watching them expectantly. “Ah, Prompto – this is Gladio, and Ignis. Guys, this is Prompto.”

Prompto gave a small wave to the two of them, and Gladio sent him back a grin that was all teeth. “Nice to _finally_ meet you,” he said, with an accusing look at Noctis.

“Indeed,” Ignis said as he pulled the car out of the parking spot, eyes still fixed directly on the road even as he spoke. “We have some time before you’re scheduled to meet with the king,” he said to Prompto. “Would you like to grab a quick lunch somewhere before we drive to the palace?”

“Uh – sure,” Prompto said, and gave Noctis a wide eyed look, like _your friends are nicer than I thought they would be_.

He grinned.

-x-

Lunch, it turned out, was more than quick – it was fast. To Noctis’ surprise, Ignis made his way through the drivethrough of a generic fast-food restaurant, and after each of them ordered and collected their preferred orders, he parked the car in the area behind the restaurant, and they ate in the car while just casually discussing absolutely _nothing_.

(Even under torture, Noctis would never admit that he’d spent the past thirty minutes blushing as his friends traded embarrassing stories about him in an attempt to get him to crack.)

After Ignis had disposed of their wrappers – Noctis was frankly surprised they’d been allowed to _eat_ in the car at all, of course he’d never let the trash that came from it remain in the car for longer than it had to – he turned the car back onto the road and headed for the citadel; to the palace where his father would be waiting to interrogate Prompto and Noctis alongside him. By that time, though there was still some apprehension in Prompto’s demeanor that wasn’t there when he was around solely Noctis, the air between the three of his friends had warmed considerably and there was nearly no tension left there at all. It seemed like they got along well – though he’d half expected disaster, he was happy to know that some of his most important people got on so well.

And because he’d been paying such close attention to just how Prompto was feeling – he could see the exact moment the nerves that had vanished over the course of their lunch reappeared.

“Hey,” he said, and reached out to nudge at Prompto’s side, his friend staring pale and tense out of the window at the palace as it loomed over them. “You’ll be fine.” He smiled as Prompto’s gaze flicked to lock with his. “And I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

“Thanks, Noct,” Prompto smiled faintly at him as he shook his head. “I know it’s kind of stupid…but I can’t help it.”

Noctis shook his head. “It’s fine. You can feel nervous if you want – but after a few minutes with my dad you’ll see he’s really not all that intimidating.”

“Truly,” Ignis agreed, and Prompto jumped along with Noctis as they remembered they weren’t alone in the car. “King Regis is a man of integrity and understanding. He may not have met you yet, but just from the shirt conversation we have shared over this past hour, I can already see that you are a true, loyal friend to Noctis – and His Majesty will see that too, I can assure you.”

“Mmm, that is extra brownie points,” Gladio agreed. “Just – try not to trip over your own thoughts too much, and you’ll be fine. The Cosmolatry Gala isn’t all _that_ big of a deal.”

Ignis made a scandalized noise, and Gladio shrugged. “Hey, don’t hate me because I’m _right,_ ” he said. “They’re making a big deal of it because it’s Noct’s first solo gig, but the reason it’s Noct’s first solo gig in the first place is the fact that what happens in Cosmolatry _stays_ in Cosmolatry. During the festival he’ll be completely safe and most political slights will be forgiven after the fact in the holiday spirit. It’s why you’re being _allowed_ to take your friend and not someone more influential, Noct – because basically, as much as it’s a learning experience, you’re being sent to Tenebrae to have _fun_.” He grinned. “So seriously, don’t sweat the small stuff, kids.”

|[-O-]|

“So, you are Prompto Argentum.” The king’s gaze was piercing as he stared Prompto down, and he had to fight the _really strong_ urge to fidget.

“Yes, sir,” he said automatically, but then remembered that while that was showing respect, it wasn’t showing the _proper_ respect. “Your Majesty,” he corrected himself before anyone could do it for him.

Something akin to amusement flickered across the king’s face, and Prompto felt something in him calm down at that little glimpse of the fact that yes, he was human, just like Noct had said he was.

“I’ll keep this meeting short,” the king said, with a faint smile playing about his lips. “There are tailors waiting for the two of you and I know they can get _ornery_ if they’re kept waiting for _too_ long. And trust me, you don’t want to know what an angry tailor is capable of with their pins.” He shuddered, and Prompto felt glad that the king was clearly _trying_ make him feel more comfortable – next to him Noctis nudged him with an elbow, and when he looked over, his friend was grinning, blatantly smug.

 _See?_ His smiled said. _Told you my dad wasn’t all that bad._

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Prompto said, and smiled, if somewhat shakily. Behind the king, Cor shook his head mutely as he twisted his hands in his lap – but he _couldn’t help it,_ he was just _bad_ at staying still, okay?

“I won’t pry too much into your private life – I have Cor to do that,” he laughed. “But I would like to ask just how you think you’ll behave, and what you think you’ll be doing, at the Gala – so, just in case you’re unsure of the etiquette of any given situation, we can clear that up now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Prompto said. “I just – I figured I’d be following Noct around for most of the night.”

Leaning back into his chair, the king hummed. “That’s acceptable,” he allowed. “In fact, I recommend it – beyond that, though, there are just a few things you need to know.”

Prompto nodded, and leant forward in his own seat to pay as much attention as he possibly could to the words about to come out of the king’s mouth; to commit them to memory for the sole purpose of _not_ fucking up on Noct’s (and Lucis’) account.

“When in a group of people, you will walk to the side of and slightly behind Noctis. You will not sit until he has, and when he stands, you will, too. You will greet all of those at the gala in a manner appropriate of their station – even if they do not return the favour and introduce themselves to you. You will not speak or enter a conversation until invited to do so. Refrain from cussing while in attendance at the gala. Make sure to eat with the right cutlery and only drink when Noctis does.” The king sighed, and Prompto’s head was _swimming_ with all the new information he’d just been given. “So long as you follow at least those pieces of advice, you should be fine.” He smiled once more, and made a waving gesture to the servants standing behind the chairs he and Noctis were seated in, positioned against the wall and on either side of the large double doors that led to the room Prompto had been informed was the king’s personal office – they bowed, and opened the doors in a well-practiced unison. “You are free to go,” he said, and with a tap on his arm from Noctis, Prompto stood, and bowed deep to the king.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said before straightening, and after leaving the room, he willingly went in the direction Noct tugged him in – down the hall, further into the palace, where he could only presume the tailors the king had mentioned were waiting for them.

“You’re getting fitted for something, too?” He asked, slipping his arm out of Noct’s grip and jogging to walk beside him. “Don’t you have, like, a million different outfits you could wear?”

“I need a new one for Cosmolatry,” Noctis said plainly. “Besides, we need to at least complement each other, even if we don’t match.”

Prompto grimaced at the idea of wearing matching outfits – it just seemed cheesy, somehow – and Noctis smiled in agreement.

“Honestly,” Noctis started, before hesitating.

“Yeah…?” Prompto prompted, nudging his friend as he slowed down. “What?”

“…It’s nothing.” Noct shook his head, and continued on down the hall.

“Hey, no, you can’t do that!” With a laugh, Prompto protested that statement. “C’mon, Noct, you can’t grab my curiosity and then leave me hanging like that.”

Stopping midstep, Noctis sighed, and turned to face Prompto, glancing from side to side and down the hall to make sure they were alone. “It’s just…because this is an official event, and we’re representing Lucis – we’ll be wearing black.”

Prompto blinked. “Uh – yeah,” he said. “I…figured that was the case?”

“No.” Noctis shook his head. “I just mean – I’ve kind of always wanted to see you in black. In Lucis’ colour.”

A sharp intake of breath – his own – and Prompto felt his cheeks flood with colour. “ _Um,_ ” he said, and was relieved beyond belief that Noctis was blushing, too – though his back was turned to him, Prompto could see the tips of his ears burning red. “I mean,” Noctis said, and his voice was kind of high-pitched. “It’s just…you’re my best friend, you know? And…I want everyone to know how much you mean to me. Wearing black…is just the easiest, most visible way to accomplish that.”

Prompto looked down at his feet, a smile tugging at his lips as a sort of warmth filled his chest at Noct’s words. “Thank you,” he said, with feeling. “You’re my best friend, too.”

Noctis laughed. “As if I didn’t already know that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prompto asked, turning a corner to stop beside Noctis when he paused at a set of double doors slightly smaller than the ones that had opened into his dad’s study.

“Just that it’s totally obvious that you love me most out of all your friends.” Noctis grinned over his shoulder at Prompto as he pushed the doors open – and not wanting to be caught in the act of shoving the crown prince over in front of the people he was having to trust in dressing him for a fancy party, Prompto contented himself with scowling briefly at Noct’s back and giving him a hard poke in the side.

“Your Highness,” one of the people gathered in the room (all of them dressed identically – and rather plainly, for tailors – in pale gray blazers and slacks) spoke up, and as one they all bowed low to Noctis.

As they stepped together into the room, Noctis and the tailors began to talk about a bunch of things that went _right_ over Prompto’s head, about stitch types and fabrics and fits and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he sort of tuned them out as they continued to get more and more in detail about the clothing they were apparently designing for them.

He trusted Noctis, and even if he thought that his friend’s sense of fashion could be slightly _off_ , he at least thought that Noct would know better than him was appropriate to wear to something like the Cosmolatry Gala – so he leant himself against the wall beside the still open doors, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

As he slid the screen to life, notification after notification popped up from Sensa – several new messages from Iris, since they hadn’t actually ended their conversation earlier – but also several posts from friends in his old photography club that he had been tagged in, and he spent a few minutes working his way through his list of notifications, liking and commenting on posts and pictures that his friends had uploaded.

> | **zephyr:** you’re in the palace rn, aren’t you?

A message from Iris popped up – she must have seen he was back online.

> | **quicksilver:** yah. noct is chatting with the tailors.  
>  | **zephyr:** normally i’d say that was a bad idea but i’m pretty sure regis was the one that organised who’s going to dress you two  
>  | **zephyr:** noct may be a disaster but the king has good taste  
>  | **zephyr:** you can trust you’re in good hands!  
>  | **quicksilver:** good to know, i guess.  
>  | **zephyr:** so you and gladdy got on okay?  
>  | **quicksilver:** I *think* so???  
>  | **zephyr:** well he doesn’t seem mad or anything  
>  | **zephyr:** kind of happy, actually.

“Prompto!”

At the sound of his name being called, Prompto’s head jerked up automatically to fixate his vision on the source of the voice – Noctis, standing beside a woman he could only presume to be the head tailor, both of them staring at him expectantly.

"Ah - yes?" He blinked, hoping he hadn't actually been _meant_ to pay attention, or that he'd missed something important.

"I need to get your measurements, sir," the tailor said, and held up a hand to show the tape measure she had wrapped around it - for the second time that day, Prompto boggled at the fact that he somehow rated a _sir_ from people that seemed so much more sophisticated then him.

"Right," he said, and wandered over in their direction, standing dutifully still as a group of people swarmed him with fabrics and tapes same as the woman beside Noct held.

"Don't worry," Noct reassured him, maybe mistaking the panic in his expression at how the people swarmed him as worry towards their capability as fashion designers, "you'll look fine - _more_ than fine, knowing these guys."

"Not _really_ what I'm worried about," Prompto muttered, and swatted one of the tailor's hands away when they reached for his wrist to untie the leather bangle he had placed there, over his codeprints. "Don't touch that," he snapped.

"Prompto can be kind of obtuse about his bracelets," Noctis explained apologetically as the man whose touch he'd whacked away stared at him with wide eyes. "Just humor him."

Torn between scowling and gratitude, Prompto stared flatly at Noctis. "Thanks," he said sardonically.

"Well, he can't wear _that_ to the gala," the head tailor said, her voice purely scandalised. "It would clash with the _entirety_ of your outfits!" She turned imploring eyes Noct's way, and after a moment of staring at Prompto, gauging just how he felt about that - he shrugged, and said: "Then design him something else. Keep it leather, I guess, but make it black - and something that _would_ fit in with the outfits."

The tailor's face tightened, clearly unhappy with that idea - but Noctis was her _prince,_ and she couldn't just disobey him or go against his direct wishes; rarely ever did Noct actually _enjoy_ the privilege he was given as the prince of Lucis, but he wasn't against using it for the sake of others, or whenever he thought a situation called for a little extra weight to be thrown around.

"...Of course, Your Highness," she finally said, speaking in faltering tones, a frown twitching at the corners of her lips. "As you wish."

"Hey, if you want to match," Prompto called out, grinning at Noctis now that he was sure no-one would be trying to remove him from his wristband - "Then maybe you should see if she could make you something in leather, too."

" _Huh_ ," Noctis blinked, and - bless his heart - half looked like he was actually considering Prompto's sarcastic jab. "Like what?" He asked, and Prompto could not _believe_ how obliviously Noct had just given him that opening.

"Like a collar," he smirked, and laughed quietly to himself as every jaw in the room fell to the floor. Noctis, for his part, was simply shaking his head in an exasperated, resigned sort of amusement - he knew Prompto far too well to take his words as offense or anything close to approaching serious - at least, until he finished with, "and I'm sure the Lady Lunafreya would love to see you dressed up with an accessory like that, all for her."

A strangled noise, sort of like the whistle of a broken tea-kettle, came from the head tailor - but Prompto was focused on his friend's face, watching closely as an incredible display of colours and emotions flickered over it.

(Prompto wished he'd had the foresight to bring his camera in with him; his tiny phone camera just wouldn't do the sight justice if he tried to use it.)

"Prompto," Noctis said. "Please - and don't take this the wrong way - please, shut up."

Prompto grinned. His work here was done. "Sure thing, buddy," he laughed, and stilled once more to allow the tailors easier access to his body.

"If we get your measurements done quickly, we should have these finished within the day," the head tailor said. "We already had the prince's, so his is pretty much good to go - just some last minute adjustments to make sure the two of you complement each other nicely." There was a tightness in her face as she said this, as if it was killing her to keep her cool and speak politely - but she _did_ manage it, and Prompto had to give kudos where kudos were due. If he was in her position, and surrounded by teenage idiots, he probably wouldn't have been able to handle it anywhere _near_ as professionally as she did.

"That's great," Noctis said, sounding relieved. He looked towards Prompto expectantly, a question in his eyes. "You okay with staying here for tonight? We can just drop by your place before we head off in the morning to pack some of your stuff; it'd be less hassle than trying to go back and forth multiple times."

Well - he wasn't _wrong_ , but Prompto still felt a thrill of fear hum through him, the nervousness that had pretty much entirely abated to a sort of vague sensation in the back of his mind threatening to make a comeback full force. "Yeah," Prompto said, and _shoved_ his fear back down to where it belonged. "If that's cool with you, sounds great."

"Good." Noctis smiled, and it lit up his whole face - even his eyes sparkling with his joy. "Since we're leaving pretty early, want to just crash in my room? It would probably be better than getting you your own room set up at this time of day."

Mutely, Prompto nodded.

|[-O-]|

Inside his mind, Noctis was screaming.

 _Oh god,_ he thought. _Oh god oh god oh_ god.

He knew - everything that had taken place in the room where Prompto had been forced to stand still for approaching three quarters of an hour, to the point of absolutely _shredding_ the last of his patience down to nothing (right now, he was collapsed face down on Noctis' bed, lying silent and still with his face buried in a pillow. He'd only stopped groaning out complaints about ten minutes earlier) would be reported back to his father. He wasn't stupid.

He just really, really hoped that the tailors played down Prompto's blatant disrespect (not to mention the whole collar thing, good _god_ did he _not_ want his father to hear about that particular sarcastic jab) - normally his friend was a lot more tactful, more _subtle_ about when and where and in whose company he chose to be quote unquote 'insubordinate,' but something about today (maybe the stress all piling up just _getting_ to him? Had his mind temporarily _broken_?) seemed to have flipped some sort of switch in Prompto that just kept his mouth _running_.

So, yeah - it was definitely going to get back to his dad. He just hoped it would wait until they'd left the city limits to get back to his dad.

Sighing, he collapsed down onto his bed, sitting on the edge just next to where Prompto had spread out across the mattress, and buried his face in his hands - sighed once more as he scrubbed his hands across his eyes before tilting his head to look at his best friend, still unmoving - actually, Noctis thought he was actually asleep.

Testing that theory, he reached out with one hand to poke gently at Prompto's side - his friend twitched, and mumbled something into his pillow that _may_ have been actual words - and yes, it did appear that he was, indeed, asleep.

It was times like this that Noctis was glad he _was_ a prince - or at least, glad that being a prince meant he got a mattress larger than some bedrooms, because that meant he could flop down on his bed next to Prompto without it being too crowded, even though that could likely change at any point he let his guard down; even if Prompto had never come over to the palace he'd stayed over at his apartment before and afternoon naps on the couch after school had proven exactly one thing to Noctis: Prompto was a cat, and when asleep, would curl into the nearest source of warmth (i.e. a body) and latch on to it with a death grip. Give it long enough, and even with such a large mattess beneath them, they'd end up tangled together in the centre, Noctis _knew_ that.

He considered pulling out his phone and maybe playing a game of King's Knight or the browser version of Justice Monsters 5 that had just been upgraded to work on mobile, or checking Sensa to see if Luna was back online - but he found himself just _staring_ at his friend as he slept, watching the gentle rise and fall of his back and shoulders at he breathed, and _marvelling_ at the fact that he was really here, in the place Noctis had been trying to figure out how to get him into for _years_.

 _I've always wanted to see you in black_ , Noctis had said earlier, and it hadn't been a lie - far from it, it had been a deep, dark truth Noctis hadn't ever wanted to admit, not to anyone; not his father or his friends, because they would judge him and tell him that the royal colours were specifically for royalty and the elite, and not Prompto - because his best, closest friend had an inferiority streak that could run a mile wide at the most inopportune of times, and if he had ever brought up that desire to him - he would have run, he _would_ have. Prompto was brave in certain ways like no-one he had ever even encountered before, but he was also spectacularly good at running from things he didn't want to talk about - he hadn't paid much attention to his classmates in middle school, true, but his memory wasn't _that_ bad, and he clearly remembered the name _Prompto Argentum_ being called out from the roll each morning and the quiet _here!_ from the back of the room that would follow. They'd been in school together for years longer than either of them really admitted, and Noctis had never asked why Prompto hadn't approached him sooner, even if the memories of his lonely childhood compared to the days he spent with Prompto by his side made his heart ache and made him want to beg _why_ out of him.

And that, _that_ was why he'd never offered a crest to Prompto, let alone asked his father if he could give him one; induct his best friend into his House - for fear of rejection and that loneliness to return.

He'd seen Prompto in black - full, proper black, attire only permitted to the royal line of Lucis and their direct subordinates - once, exactly. The first time he'd ended up crashing on Noctis' couch in his apartment, Noctis had offered him the use of an old jumper and a pair of trackpants to wear as pyjamas. They'd been slightly too loose on him, the neckline just hanging off of one shoulder as it slipped down and the cuffs of both pants and sleeves falling longer than they would have on him - mixed with Prompto's hair, messy and falling to cover his eyes without his gel to style it up and his pale skin, contrasting the dark material of the clothes, Prompto had looked magical, almost _fae_ \- like the spirits Luna had shown him once, in her own gilded and illustrated version of the Cosmogony when they'd visited Tenebrae before its occupation, so many years ago. He'd looked young and sad and more than a little lost, standing hesitantly in the doorway that led from Noctis' bathroom to his loungeroom, tugging at a woolen thread that had come loose on his borrowed jumper - more than anything, he'd looked like he'd _belonged_. He'd felt like it, too - deep inside Noctis, something had _clicked_ into place when he'd looked at his friend wearing his colours and he had _known_ , even at fifteen, that he was looking at someone who would, one day, be an integral member of his inner circle. The black _suited_ him.

Of course, Prompto wouldn't agree - but since then, Noctis had been _trying_ and _trying_ to think of a way to get his friend back in something at least _approaching_ royal attire; knowing that come the gala in a few days he _would_ be seeing that was a heady feeling, and lying in bed next to the sleeping form of his best friend, relaxed and unconcerned with the world around him, fully trusting Noctis in a way that made him smile - made another desire rise up.

And, well, it wasn't like anyone was watching, so, _what the hell_ \- Noctis rolled into the center of the mattress, and, sensing movement, warmth - Prompto rolled, too, his head hitting against the dip between Noctis' shoulders as he resettled deeper into sleep with a sigh.

The warmth that radiated from Prompto's presence by him was soothing, and so Noctis closed his eyes, and let the even sound of his friends breathing lull him to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cosmolatry - a word literally meaning 'worship of the cosmos.' Considering the whole space theme Eos has going (astrals, starscourge, cosmogony) and the fact that Christmas _does_ have religious roots, it seemed appropriate that the Eos equivalent had that same relation.
> 
> The next few parts will go more in depth on just what Cosmolatry _really_ means and how it is celebrated.
> 
> The relationship between Cor Leonis and Prompto is totally a headcanon I came up with, and is explained with greater detail in my greater au series, |we're a broken people| so check that out if you're interested.
> 
> Canon XV doesn't have internet, which is why you have to learn things via radio and newspaper. This fic evidently _does_ have internet, and Sensa is basically a combination of Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any backstory and lore (including the ages of characters) is subject to my own personal headcanon and worldbuilding/rewriting. Check out _sins of our fathers_ if you're curious for the backstory on Prompto's mother that Cor alludes to. I mean, those particular chapters aren't posted yet, but they will be.
> 
> Since the Cosmolatry is made up by me so is the mythology surrounding it. Fun Fact: if you look closely you'll realise every Astral and Eos (whom I see as like, supreme goddess of XV's world) is given capitalised pronouns except for Ifrit, because he's a filthy traitor. And yes, the Ifrit=Lucifer allusions were totally deliberate.
> 
> Um, sorry this part took so long to get out? I've had a severe lack of internet and computer access since Christmas Eve, so expect the next chapter to be out by the end of the month at the latest - for now, I'm focusing on _Sinspawn's_ next chapter so I can have it posted by the 15th of this month, its one year anniversary! If you're into Final Fantasy X, go and check it out. Not to toot my own horn or anything, _but it is literally one of the most popular fics in that fandom archive_. *shameless self plug*
> 
> Ask any questions you may have below because I probably missed explaining something clearly anywho, and I will do my level best to answer.
> 
> [Note: the author wants to make it clear that she understands that as translations and information on the game are coming out/being released, new things about certain characters will be revealed. She would also like to make it _very_ clear that she could not care less if she tried. While all canon information received will be considered, the author knows where she is taking all of her fics and canon will not drag her off of her rails. It's an AU, guys, is what the author is saying.]

Prompto woke up to a familiar sensation of warmth and the scent of Noct's shampoo - he blinked protesting eyes open to an incredibly close up view of his best friend's back. Once upon a time, he would have yelped, or flailed, and generally just been frantic in his efforts to _get away_ , but these days this was a more frequent occurrence then he would honestly have liked to admit, even to himself - something about the way Noct was constantly just falling asleep himself lured others (read: Prompto) to curl up with him, and before he knew what was happening, they would be napping. _Cuddling_.

The first few times had been awkward, true - Noctis startled that someone had dared to fall asleep against him let alone _in his presence_ , a lifetime of royal protocol teaching him that such a thing was impossible; Prompto somewhere between horrified, mortified and terrified that he had _fallen asleep on the Prince of Lucis_ \- but eventually they'd fallen into a sort of rhythm. Noctis liked naps, Prompto liked warmth; it was a beautiful kind of symbiosis so long as they didn't think on it too hard.

Prompto blinked at the solid black of Noct's shirt as his friend breathed deeply in his sleep, not even registering his movement as he rolled away onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Sunlight was shining mildly through gaps in Noct's curtains that hadn't been fully drawn, and considering the sun had already been dipping below the horizon when they'd _finally_ stumbled their way to his room after the debacle with the tailors, that probably meant it was already the next day - two days before the first day of Cosmolatry and the Gala; the day they would be setting off from Insomnia and Lucis.

 _Oh boy_. Prompto took in a deep breath - and, even though it was really, _really_ hard, pushed himself into a sitting position, and then out of Noct's bed. It may have just been the most comfy thing he had ever curled up to sleep in, but unlike Noct, who could sleep anywhere and anywhen for any length of time, once Prompto was awake he was _awake_ , and the idea of just lying in bed - especially in a bed that wasn't his own, in a palace he still felt like he was breaking the law just by _being_ in - made him feel kind of...lazy. Almost worthless.

And so he levered himself gently off of the edge of the bed - yeah, so Noct wasn't going to wake up until he was good and ready for anything short of the apocalypse or someone trying to _directly_ get him up (while he could block out background noise with a mastery Prompto's enhanced senses and wandering attentions envied, Noct had been trained as a prince to be alert and ready at any time with the simplest of signals, and sometimes that _showed_ ), but that was no reason to _not_ be courteous and quiet - he'd always been so attentive to Prompto since they'd first become friends; the last thing he wanted was Noctis waking himself up early because he thought Prompto moving around had meant he'd _needed_ something.

At the same time, though - even if he could no longer lie down and _still_ on the bed beside Noctis, he couldn't exactly go wandering about the palace.

As he hovered at the edge of the bed, wringing his hands and just being generally helpless as to what to do with himself, his phone buzzed in his pocket - he jumped, pulled it out, and frowned when he saw that it was very nearly dead, the battering flashing a red warning at him - he hadn't brought his charger with him when he'd prepared for the interview; why would he have thought of needing it?

Thankfully, even though Noct's phone was an expensive model _way_ out of the league of what Prompto could even _dream_ of affording (let alone _actually buying_ ), the jumble of wires all clattered and knotted together on his friend's desk showed that his charger, at least, was universal.

He swiftly plugged his phone in, and once the screen had lit up with the _'charging'_ symbol, let his eyes flick to the message that had buzzed through - it was from _Cor_ , he saw, surprised enough by this fact that he found himself just _staring_ at his phone's screen for a good solid minute, before realising what he was doing and swiping to the message proper.

 _When you see this, wake the prince up_ , the text read. _The king wants to see you before you leave; I've already taken the liberty of going to your place and packing the essentials for you. Your meds, for one - I've packed the exact amount you'll need for the Gala and then some extra, just in case your return trip takes longer than expected if the Glacian is in a mood._

As he read through it, a second one buzzed through - _don't leave the prince's room. I'm sending Gladiolus Amicitia to escort the both of you to the king. There are paparazzi skulking around in an attempt to get a last minute scoop before their forced sabbatical. The last thing you need is your image plastered everywhere._

Prompto considered sending Cor a link to his Sensa page, over half filled with selfies, just for laughs - but at that moment there was a knock at the door, and Noctis jerked awake with a slurred grumble and hazy eyes.

He blinked at Prompto, confused from under the mess that was his wild bedhead, and Prompto couldn't help but crack a grin. "Want me to get that?" He asked, and gestured at the door.

Still blinking, still kind of asleep, and running a hand through his hair, Noctis yawned wide enough to audibly crack his jaw. "If you don't mind," he said, and Prompto pushed himself to his feet.

As he'd thought, it was Gladiolus - _call me Gladio,_ he'd said yesterday, and Prompto was never admitting to the man's face that after _years_ of conversation with Iris he would forever be _Gladdy_ within the confines of his own mind - standing there, grinning down at him as he pulled the door open.

"Well, you're more awake then Noct ever is this time of morning," he allowed, and gently pushed his way past Prompto into the room. "Rise and shine, Your Highness," he said, and Noctis scowled from where he was sitting, hunched over, at the edge of his bed, clearly trying to find the strength to push himself into an upright and standing position.

"Shut up," he mumbled. "It can't be time for us to leave already." He'd squinted at his still closed curtains as he'd said this, as if trying to judge how late it was by calculating from the faint light that broke the cloth what time it was.

"Nope," Gladio agreed cheerfully. "But your dad wants to see you, and your friend here needs to collect his outfit and his luggage, and then we need to pull Ignis away from the car you're taking so you can _actually_ leave." He grinned. "Since you're driving yourself, he's panicking like a frantic mama chocobo over all the safety features. He's made the mechanics check the airbags three times, now."

Noctis groaned, and flopped back down onto the bed, rubbing a hand across his face. "I forgot I'd have to take the wheel," he complained. "I mean, dad always drove on these trips." He squinted at Gladio. "I can't function without breakfast," he said airily, and waved a careless hand in the air as Prompto stared, fighting a grin. "Get me something to eat."

Gladio grinned. "I'll send for coffee," he laughed, and Noct's face scrunched up in disgust.

"I'll disown you," he threatened. "I'll totally kick you out of my House."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Gladiolus waved Noct off - and turned to walk down the hall, back the way he had (presumably) come from. "I'll get you your breakfast, princess," he said. "So long as you get up and get dressed by the time I'm back - and _don't_ leave this room. The vultures are circling."

Noct shot a thumbs-up at Gladio's back as the door swung back shut behind him, and Prompto looked at him curiously. " _Your_ House?" He asked, genuinely interested - over the years he'd heard Noct complain about the nuances and rules and traditions expected of him as the blood heir to the ruling line and a member of the House of Peers, but Prompto would be blatantly lying if he said he'd actually paid all that much attention when his friend vented. He'd sort of...zone out.

But this time, as Noct blinked at him before sitting back up on his elbows before beginning to explain, Prompto _forced_ himself to listen, to _pay attention_ and _retain_ the words that came out of his friend's mouth. These were things that he may have to know at the Gala; things he might be _expected_ to know. He couldn't let Lucis - let _Noctis_ \- down with his own ignorance.

"Hmm," Noctis hummed thoughtfully in answer to his question. "Well, you know about the House of Peers, right - it's made up of representatives of all of the noble Houses of Lucis. Usually, as the eldest child, Gladio would be the representative - or heir, really - to the House of Amicitia. But since he's my shield, he's a part of my House, like Clarus is a part of my father's - rulers form their own Houses, not of blood, since the Caelum line belongs solely to Lucis its technically not a noble House. Each generation forms a new inner circle, see. Like, Ignis and Gladio are in my house, so even though they're still both apart of their own _familial_ Houses and hold their own titles by virtue of that, they can't represent that house in the House of Peers. They can inherit, though - land, at least, if not a seat among the Peers."

"Huh," Prompto said. "Then - you said they could still technically inherit - why isn't Gladio the heir to House Amicitia?"

Noctis shrugged. "Same reason Clarus isn't the Head of the House - his wife is, even though she married into the name. He's the king's shield, or he will be. He could die at any moment. For the sake of the king and the Caelum line, he's _expected_ to die at any moment. Someone like that...can't head a House. Iris will inherit; everyone was really happy when she was finally born, apparently - it almost seemed like Violet wasn't going to bear another child after Gladio and the line would die out."

Prompto blinked. "Dude, I'm so glad I didn't have to worry about any of this growing up," he said frankly, and wondered at the dark flicker that darted across Noct's eyes at his words. "You okay?" He asked, and tilted his head.

Before Noct could answer, his phone buzzed once more, breaking the tension building in the room and drawing the attention of both of them.

 _Cor,_ Prompto thought - at least, probably - and felt a thrill of fear as Noctis rolled over across his mattress to reach for his phone. Fast - faster than human, faster than he should have moved while someone else's eyes were on him (and by the widening of Noct's eyes when Prompto suddenly just _appeared_ beside him as if by magic, he _saw_ even if he didn't _understand_ ), calling on that chorus of screaming chaos that _never shut up_ inside of him for just a split second - he grabbed for his phone long before Noct's hand could ever so much a _near_ it.

" _Etro_ ," Noctis swore, clutching at his chest and flinching backwards as Prompto blinked at the name of Lucis' Lady falling from his best friend's lips and fear trickled a cold burning like acid down his body. " _Fuck_. Warn a guy, next time - just how much of a ninja _are_ you?"

Something inside Prompto relaxed infinitesimally - even though Noctis had been surprised, _shocked_ to see Prompto by his side so fast after his mind had registered him flat on the other side of the room, it seemed he wasn't suspicious, not at all.

So, he grinned. "You have to be quiet if you want to be able to catch the best shots," he stated imperiously. "That's the photographer's way!"

Noctis groaned and swore at him one more time, calling him a _nerd_. "I need to get dressed," he yawned, and blinked at Prompto. "You do, too," he said, and that was when Prompto realised he'd fallen asleep in the same clothes he'd been wearing the day before when Cor had hustled him out of his front door - and he blushed, _how embarrassing_.

"Er - yeah," he said. "Except, I don't exactly have any spare clothes on me; when I got out of bed and left my house yesterday morning I didn't really know I wasn't going to be going back."

Somewhat sheepishly (at least, that's what it looked like to Prompto), Noctis ran a hand through his hair as he grinned at him. "Whoops?" He offered. "We're about the same size; you can just wear some of my clothes."

Prompto swallowed. Wear Noct's clothes? Oh, sure, in the safety and privacy of his friend's apartment, he was fine with it - it wasn't like anyone could _see_ him presuming enough of himself to wear the royal colour of Lucis there. But _here?_ In the _palace?_ _Everyone_ would be able to see - and tell, from the too loose fit - that the clothes he would be wearing belonged to the Crown Prince, that he was daring to dress above his station. It…wasn’t an appealing idea, to be completely honest.

Still, it wasn’t like he had any other options – and Noctis was staring at him expectantly, having walked over to his wardrobe, so Prompto held his tongue, and nodded. “Sure,” he said, and forced a grin.

Noctis nodded, and ducked behind the double doors of his wardrobe, throwing out several dark items of clothing that Prompto snatched out of the air – a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a jumper, all of which Prompto swiftly changed into while Noctis was still behind the doors, changing into his own clothes. Once he’d pulled himself outside of the wardrobe and shoved the doors shut, Noctis gave him an approving nod.

“You look good,” he said, a smile playing about his lips, and Prompto rolled his eyes.

“Oh, sure I do,” he said, and tugged a bit of his fringe out of his eyes as he shook his head. “Baggy jeans and a jumper; totally high fashion, right here.”

Noctis laughed. “No, seriously.” He said. “You pull the colour off well.” He moved to stand beside Prompto, and slung an arm over his shoulder. “I’ll prove it. Post a morning selfie to Sensa and see how many likes it gets.”

Prompto narrowed his eyes at his friend, his arm warm around his shoulders and his breath warm against his neck and cheek. “With you?” he asked, with a pointed look at how Noctis was embracing him from the side.

“Sure, why not?” Noctis shrugged.

Prompto’s eyes narrowed further, to the point where he was near squinting at Noctis. “You hate getting your picture taken,” he said. “Especially if it’s going to be posted to Sensa.”

“Not if it’s with you,” Noctis promised. “At least, just this once.”

Prompto laughed, and shook his head once more, his hair – no longer gelled up and styled after a day and night – falling back into his eyes. This time, he didn’t bother pushing back out of his sight, though – just tapped his way to the camera app of his phone, switching it to front camera and holding it before them. “Uh – get in closer,” he said. “You’re getting cut out of the picture, Noct.”

Wordlessly, Noctis moved in closer, so their cheeks were pressed together, strands of his hair tickling Prompto’s nose – and Prompto pressed down on the shutter button just as the door reopened behind them.

In unison they turned to see Gladio enter the room, and Noctis immediately perked up when he saw the food his shield held, pulling away from Prompto to hurry to his side.

“Of _course_ you’re another Iris,” he frowned Prompto’s way with a roll of his eyes. “Selfies every morning, without fail.” He spoke with the tones of a brother who had more than once been forced to put up with said selfie taking, and frowned at the phone Prompto held. “You putting that on Sensa?” he asked, and Prompto froze. Was he…not meant to?

“Uh, yeah,” he said hesitantly, and Noct snorted around a mouthful of an egg and bacon sandwich.

“Ignore him,” he said. “Go ahead and post the picture; it looked good.”

Staring down at his screen, Prompto had to admit that it _did_ look good, blocking out the world around him as he gazed critically at the moment he’d captured. The lighting was soft, Noct’s curtains preventing the worst of the morning’s direct sunlight from messing up the brightness on their skin, but neither had it been dark enough to bury their features in the dimness. It was just light enough to exude a sense of _warmth_ , and in a stunning moment of realisation, Prompto thought he understood what Madame Jocasta had been talking about, the day before – this picture told a story. Maybe not the _real_ story as it had happened, but a story all the same…the angle, the lighting, the obviously shared clothes; from an outsider point of view, looking in, it would seem almost as if…

…a flaming blush lit up Prompto’s face like a _blazing_ fire, _he could feel it_ , and for a minute he hesitated on whether or not he should actually post the picture, regardless of Noct’s uncharacteristic desire to have him do so – it just seemed, and _looked_ , so _intimate_. It was a picture that had captured their bond, their closeness, and it felt _personal_. He didn’t want other people to twist that. He didn’t want _their_ stories to infect and overpower _his_.

Before he could chicken out, he hit the post button and shut his Sensa app down. He also silenced his phone – Cor hadn’t called since but he wouldn’t have done so in the first place for no reason and thus he really, really needed to call him back or answer the next time he called; he just didn’t want Noctis to pay attention to that fact and figure out something was up.

“Here,” Gladio said, and wandered over from the area near the doorway where Noct was stuffing his face. “Got you something too.”

Blinking in surprise, Prompto took the paper bag he held out and opened it to see an egg and bacon sandwich, same as Noct’s. “Er…thanks,” he said, meaning it genuinely if awkwardly.

Gladio waved him off. “No problem,” he said. “Just, uh – don’t tell Iggy how you got breakfast when he asks if the two have you have already eaten. Or what you ate. He’s on a bit of a ‘balanced diet’ kick lately and if he finds out I fed the two of you _junk food_ before you took off on an incredibly long drive, well…”

He trailed off, but Prompto didn’t need any more words or explanation to get the picture. “Gotcha,” he said, and across the room Noctis put a thumb up.

“I’ll take you secret to my grave,” Noctis swore. “It’ll be your Cosmolatry present.”

Gladio snorted – and it was then, as he turned to look at Prompto like _can you believe this guy_ , that he seemed to notice just what, exactly, Prompto was wearing – he blinked, and he stared, and then turned to Noctis as if asking for an explanation.

“What?” Noctis said, mouth still full of food. He swallowed, and continued. “It’s not like he can wear the same clothes as yesterday, and everything I own is in black.”

Gladio grimaced, as if ceding the point, but still shook his head, _no_. “That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said grimly. “His hair’s a mess from sleeping with product in it and he’s wearing your clothes, Noct. I may know better, but not everyone will. You know what this looks like, right?”

Prompto choked on air and across the room heard Noctis do the same thing with his food as they stared, wide-eyed at Gladio, and his mind jumped to the picture he’d just posted and _oh god he_ really _shouldn’t have done that, should he?_

At that moment, as Noctis shook off his shock and began _scolding_ (of all thing) Gladio, his phone buzzed with an incoming call once more – _Cor_ , the caller ID read plainly – and as discreetly as possible, Prompto held his phone up for an explanation as he ducked out into the hall.

Both Gladio and Noctis waved him off – it seemed almost as if a true argument was brewing. Hopefully they’d sort it out by the time he was done with the call and had to reenter the room.

“Cor,” he said as he hit ‘accept call.’ “What is it?”

“Why didn’t you pick up the first time, kid?” Cor asked. “Actually no, never mind, I don’t care. When you and the prince depart from the palace, make some sort of excuse so you can stop by your house.”

Prompto frowned at his phone. “I thought you said you packed my stuff,” he said.

“I did. I also put it into the trunk of the car you’re going in; lucky you, having someone as nice as me look after you.” He sighed. “No, Prompto, I’ve left you a little gift under your bed. Hide them well – don’t let even the prince know you have them.”

Cryptic words or no, Prompto could read between the lines well enough to know what Cor was alluding to, and his stomach dropped to his feet as his veins filled with ice that splintered through to his voice, cold and shaking as he answered Cor with one word: “No.”

“You need to be able to defend yourself, Prompto,” Cor said bluntly. “And if you won’t protect the life your mother gave everything to save, then how about protecting the prince you love so dearly?”

“It’s Cosmolatry,” Prompto said faintly, voice cracking. “No one will attack. No one _can_ attack. There’s no reason for me to defend myself – or Noctis – from _anything_.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Cor said chidingly. “I know it’s been a few years, but you’re as good with guns as your mother ever was –”

“ _Stop that!_ ” The words left Prompto’s throat in a sharp cry before he could stop himself, and he paused for a moment, lifting his phone from his ear to check if Noct or Gladio had managed to hear that and would come running out of the room to see what was up any second – when they didn’t, he resumed his conversation. “Stop using my mother against me, as if she’s some sort of…of…I don’t know, divine, ultimate persuasion. I _don’t care_ if she gave everything up for me. I couldn’t care less that she was _good with guns_. I never knew her! Not as my mother! I don’t even know her name, and whatever crisis of conscience she had at the end didn’t make up for the fact that for most of my childhood, she didn’t even _tell_ me who she was – and she knew, Cor, _she knew what I was_ , she helped them _make me_ , of course she did, _why would I care about her at all?_ ”

He was breathing hard, frustration and anger years old pouring through him, and for a moment, Cor was silent on the other end of the line.

Then, “I never really knew your mother,” he said slowly. “But she was nineteen years old, and terrified, and pregnant, the first time I met her. I encountered her sneaking through a camp we’d set up on one of the borders where we were trying to push back Nif troops before they broke through the region and claimed more Lucian land – she was draining elemancy procurement points. I would have killed her when they brought her to me if it wasn’t for the fact that she looked like a kid, and then the fact that she was _carrying_ a kid. I let her go, told her to go back to Niflheim and never mention the fact that we’d met to anyone else, ever – and I didn’t regret that decision, not once, until six years later. She’d hunted me down, still on the frontlines, and I damn near had a heart attack when I walked into my tent to see her waiting for me on my bed. She was older, and harder, and it took a moment for me to recognise her – but before I could so much as reach for my blade, she was on the floor, on her knees with her forehead to the ground – prostrating herself before me as she begged for my help to save her child, no matter what it cost her. She offered me her life, her body, information on Nif weapons and higher ups, even a bombing of my Nif institution of choice. Anything I so desired, she said, so long as I would save her son. And I believed her – if I’d told her to bring me Titan’s head on a silver platter I fully believe that she would have marched her way to the Disk and merrily slain the Archaen herself. You have a right to your opinion, Prompto, but your mother _did_ love you…enough to kill a god for you, should it have come down to it.”

Prompto swallowed. “I don’t care,” he said again. “But – I will take the guns, for _Noct’s_ sake.” He hesitated. “After all, even if we don’t have to worry about Niflheim during Cosmolatry, there are still monsters, right?”

A moment of silence. “Right,” Cor said. “Listen, take care of yourself, okay kid? And if you need a rescue during Cosmolatry, then just ring. Against the will of the gods or not, I’ll come and pull yours and the prince’s asses out of whatever trouble you’ve fallen into.”

The tension of the last few minutes draining out of their conversation, Prompto laughed. “Whatever you say, old man,” he said, and a faintly crackling silence was all he was greeted with before several beeps echoed down the line – Cor, it seemed, had hung up on him. He wasn’t offended. It was just how Cor was: difficult.

He hovered by the closed doors of Noct’s room for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not Gladio and Noctis were still having ‘words.’ He didn’t hear anything, and so he nudged the door open slowly, only to have it pulled all the way open as Noct stared at him.

“Um,” he said, and Noct shook his head.

“You ready to go, then?” He asked.

“Uh, sure,” he said, and Gladio walked out to stand beside him.

“I’ll be escorting you two to the garage,” he said, and Prompto noted the suitcase he held – a glance aside, and he realised Noct held one, too. “I mean, you’re not leaving yet – you still need to collect your outfit, Prompto, and His Majesty wants to see the both of you – but we need to dump Noct’s luggage and pull Iggy away from the car, so there we go first.”

|[-O-]|

As the door swung shut behind Prompto, leaving the room to take a call, Noctis glared at Gladio.

“Oh, my god,” he said. “ _Why._ ”

Gladio shrugged. “You’re kind of helpless, Noct,” he said, and Noctis was about ready to _tear his hair out._

“Really?” He asked. “ _Really? That_ is your excuse?”

“Me and Iggy are both in agreement.” Gladio grinned, and crossed his arms. “You’re absolutely smitten, and in dire need of assistance. A few nudges and hints to get the other party moving along the way won’t hurt, not at all.”

His first instinct was to protest Gladio’s words – smitten? With Prompto? _Him?_ Absolutely _ridiculous_ – but what came out when he opened his mouth was, instead: “So, what? That was your idea of _hitting on my best friend for me_?” He winced the moment the words were out of his mouth – because there was no denying it, now; no denying the fact that he had been in love with said best friend since…probably since they’d first really talked, even if he’d only become _aware_ of his massive crush about a year earlier.

Once more, he shrugged. “More like my idea of getting your best friend to get a clue and hit on _you_ , since the Lady knows _you_ are never going to make a move."

Exuding all the grace, dignity and maturity afforded to him as one of the Caelum line, Noctis flipped Gladio the bird.

He snorted. “You’re lucky that his phone call is taking so long,” he said. “You’re red as a tomato.”

As he moved to the back of the room; his wardrobe, Noctis shoved an elbow into Gladio’s side. “Shut up and help me pack,” he said. Gladio laughed, pushing the elbow away from his body and sending Noct stumbling with more force than Noctis himself could have exerted.

From underneath his bed, Noctis pulled out two suitcases, and handed one to Gladio. “Just shove whatever into it,” he said. “I honestly don’t care what you pack; I only actually have to wear the outfit that was designed for me on the night of the Gala; beyond that I can wear whatever.”

Gladio hummed. “You only really need enough clothes to get you through the days when you’re travelling, too,” he pointed out. “You’ll be at Tenebrae for, what? The day and night of the Gala?”

Noctis nodded, turning his attention from the clothes he was shoving ‘methodically’ into the suitcase to the smaller bag kept shoved in one corner of the bag. “Yeah,” he said, and went to his bathroom to scoop his toiletries into that small bag. “What about Prompto’s stuff?” He wondered aloud, and by the wardrobe Gladio shrugged.

“Cor got some of the Crownsguard to go round to his place, I think?” Gladio said. “Maybe?”

Noctis frowned. “We might have to leave a little early,” he mused. “Whoever got his stuff probably didn’t take a look through his cameras, and I don’t really get it, but he’s _really_ picky about his…I don’t know, lenses. He’ll probably be upset if he doesn’t get the chance to pick out some of his own things, so we should make a stop by his place before we leave Insomnia proper.” He exited his bathroom and looked up from his now packed back to see Gladio grinning toothily at him.

He blinked. “What?” He asked. “ _What?_ ”

“Nothing,” Gladio said. “You’re just a very sweet boyfriend, Noct.”

Standing by the head of his bed, Noctis threw a pillow at Gladio.

-x-

It turned out that Gladio was right about Ignis – he had, in fact, been supervising a team of harried looking mechanics, and Noctis couldn’t help but crack a grin as he took in the frown playing on his lips.

Next to him, Prompto let out a sort of nervous whine as he took in the scene before them – the garage, the car, and the people in and around them. “Wow,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on the car.

Noctis squinted – the car didn’t look that impressive to him, though he knew it was definitely expensive; if it wowed Prompto however, then, cool. “Once we get out of city limits,” he murmured to him in an aside, “you can drive, if you want.” He smiled at Prompto’s excited, wide-eyed look of surprise. “Just…don’t tell Ignis.”

“Don’t tell me what?” Gaze stern, Ignis stared up at them on the industrial platforms and railings that ran all around the palace garage.

“That you look kind of ridiculous!” Noctis called down without missing a beat, and sent a subtle, plaintive glance Gladio’s way – _please don’t tell him that I’ll let Prompto drive_ , that look said; not when he knew Ignis was already worried about Noctis leaving the citadel’s limits would he risk ruining either Ignis’ sense of security or Prompto’s excitement over getting to drive the car.

Gladio shrugged, which Noctis knew meant that as long as they wouldn’t get themselves killed, he didn’t really care who drove. Which meant he was unlikely to tell Ignis on them.

Noctis grinned, and gave Gladio a mental thumbs up as they made their way down to the ground level, where Ignis, the car and the crew were working.

“Iggy,” Gladio greeted. “We come bearing luggage.”

Ignis nodded. “The Marshall already brought Prompto’s around,” he said, and Noctis quirked a brow at him.

“The Marshall himself?” Gladio said. “Huh.” He shook his head. “Never mind that, Iggy,” he said. “You’ve had this car thoroughly checked over enough times, I think. We need to pack Noct’s stuff in the trunk and then get these two to His Majesty before they leave; it’s about time to let these poor mechanics go.”

The ‘poor mechanics’ sent Gladio grateful looks, even as Ignis gave him an affronted one.

“I am just trying to make sure that Noct has as safe a trip as possible,” he said stiffly, and Noctis laughed.

“More like you’re trying to stress your way into an early grave,” he teased. “Come on, Iggy, I’ll be fine; maybe just leave the car be, now?”

A moment of silent consideration, and then Ignis slowly nodded. “Fine,” he said. “So, we’re going to see the king, then?” Behind him, the crew that had been working on the car sighed and slumped down in relief, and swiftly moved into setting the mess under the hood back in order, without Ignis even needing to tell them to do so.

Faintly, Noctis saw, Ignis blushed, faint pink dusting across his cheekbones. “I apologise for causing you all such trouble,” he said to the crew. “Thank you for getting up so early to help me with this.”

One of the women pulled her head from the open hood of the car to smile Ignis’ way. “It was no problem, Count Scientia,” she said, with a certain sort of mischief evident in her tone. “Though – we do all expect good Cosmolatry bonuses!”

Gladio laughed as he moved to shove Noctis’ suitcases into the trunk. “It’s not even Cosmolatry, yet,” he pointed out, and the mechanic laughed.

“But everything we’re doing is for the sake of the Gala,” she pointed out. “Show a little holiday spirit, Lord Amicitia.”

Noctis sent a look Prompto’s way – he’d been almost _bizarrely_ silent since they’d entered the garage, after all – to see him frowning down at his phone.

“You okay?” He asked, as Gladio and the mechanic continued to flirt in the background while Ignis sighed.

“Huh?” Prompto’s head jerked up, and his gaze locked on Noctis’ in a hazy, distracted manner. “Uh, yeah,” he said, his attention still mostly on his phone, it seemed, as he kept glancing back down at it – and when Noctis didn’t say anything more, he just looked at his phone screen with all of his attention focused on it.

Noctis was silent, even though he was curious, because for the first time that morning he had really _looked_ at Prompto – and even though he looked really _adorable_ dressed in his clothing, the dark black of the material making his light skin seem even paler, near luminescent; bringing out the honey in his hair and the flecks of grey in his eyes – mostly Noctis was focused on the arch of his neck above the low scoop neck of his jumper, the way the line of each muscle stood out as he craned his head over his phone, gaze cast low; how the golden strands of his hair, longer and falling about his face in an uneven, framing curtain without being styled up, fell in natural waves and curled across the skin of his face and neck.

It was at that moment that Noctis realised that the others in the background had fallen silent, and were looking at him with no small amount of amusement as he simply stared at Prompto, tapping away at the screen of his phone. He flushed bright red, and couldn’t help but be glad that whatever Prompto had been looking at was distracting him enough to keep him from realising he _was_ actually being stared at.

Ignis coughed. “Perhaps,” he said. “It would be best if we left for King Regis now, don’t you think?”

Once more, Prompto blinked to attention, tearing his gaze away from his phone. “Uh – yeah,” he said distractedly, and shoved his phone into one of his pockets. “Sure.”

“Well…” Noctis led off. “Let’s go, then?”

Mutely, Prompto nodded, and Gladio headed for the door. “Come on, then,” he said. “We don’t want to keep him waiting too long.”

|[-O-]|

His phone felt almost as if it was burning a hole in his pocket – or maybe as if he’d shoved a slab of ice into it.

He’d been messaging Iris in the garage, trying to distract and entertain himself while the others talked issues and circles around him – and that had been when a message from Cammie had buzzed through.

> | **cammieflage:** Got a message for you from Madame Jocasta!  
>  | **cammieflage:** Check EWP official site.

And so, he had. And while he hadn’t seen whatever Cammie had told him was so interesting at first – after flicking through a few of the sites subsections, he _had_ , and couldn’t help but gape.

Because there, on the page dedicated to students and scholarship recipients associated with Jocasta Forma, was _his name_.

 _Prompto Argentum_ , written out plainly and clearly, near the bottom of the list – one of the most recent additions, next to two others whose names he didn’t recognise – his profile picture from Sensa and a link to that exact page available right under it.

He’d very nearly swooned, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it as he stared at his phone screen, barely registering what was going on around him.

> | **quicksilver:** ??? pls explain.  
>  | **cammieflage:** *shrugs* I’m not sure.  
>  | **cammieflage:** I just got told to update the site with these edits.  
>  | **cammieflage:** you’ll probably get a call from MJ after Cosmolatry explaining things better than I ever could  
>  | **cammieflage:** congratulations?  
>  | **quicksilver:** thanks, cammie

“Hey, Prompto.” Noctis sidled up to him, and tugged on his sleeve. “Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Ah, yeah - I just got some _maybe_ good news back from that interview I took yesterday? I _think_?" He scrunched up his nose. "Honestly, it's hard to tell." He tilted his phone screen so Noctis could see it, and he let out a soft _huh_.

"Looks like good news to me," he said with a reassuring smile that made Prompto feel warm inside with just how supportive his friend was being; just how much _faith_ Noct seemed to hold in him even in such a small way, with the smallest and least important of things.

And then they were at the same double doors they had been yesterday, and Gladio and Ignis were pushing them open, and there was the king, sitting at his desk with Cor standing over one shoulder, a man Prompto didn't recognise at the other.

"Noctis, Prompto," the king greeted after they had bowed - Prompto lower than Noctis; from the waist rather than the shoulders - and taken a seat as he gestured for them to do. "I'll keep this quick; you'll have to get on the road soon if you want to make it to Tenebrae in time for the Gala." He smiled faintly at his son. "And remember to keep as low a profile as possible; Cosmolatry hasn't actually started yet, and I wouldn't put it past Niflheim to take advantage of that fact."

Solemnly, Noctis nodded, and Prompto flicked a swift glance Cor's way with wide-eyes. Was _this_ why he wanted Prompto to carry guns? Gently, he brushed fingertips against the brown leather wristband he wore, just above where his codeprints would show - sure, as both he and Cor knew, he had more weapons at disposal than just manmade, such as guns, but it would be best for _everyone_ if he didn't have to use them, if it came down to it. Calling on the chaos that screamed inside him was always a dangerous idea, particularly during the daylight hours, when they recoiled from the celestial body that represented the Lady Eos, and weakened Prompto himself in turn.

"We'll be alert," Noctis promised, and tilted his head in Prompto's direction. "Right, Prompto?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice to stay even in that moment, his fingers still above his codeprints. "Absolutely," he said a minute later.

The king's gaze was piercing and _heavy_ , a weighty thing that saw right through Prompto to the core - or at least, that's what it felt like as Noct's dad's judgment settled upon him and he _froze_.

"Your outfit for the Gala is ready," he said, and made a gesture as Cor was already reaching to hand over a glossy black box - filled with delicate tissue paper wrapped around what looked like a glossy mix of silk-satin, velvet and wool, with a bare glimpse of leather on the top that had him grinning - it seemed the tailor really had taken Noct's words to hear and made him a wristband.

He looked up from his perusal of his outfit to thank the king, who was raising his eyebrows at the two of them. "I was also reassured that a collar would _not_ be incorporated into _your_ outfit, Noctis," he said, and behind Prompto Gladio made a noise like the final wheeze of a strangled cat. "Would you mind explaining that one for me?" There was amusement in the king's tone rather than damnation or judgement, but still Noct remained stoically silent and so Prompto followed his lead, even as sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he felt as if every eye in the room was fixed on him and he wanted to fidget in his seat.

(Cor's look was full of judgement, but not disbelief - because of _course_ Cor knew that it was Prompto's fault that such a topic had been brought up at all; and of course he had expected something like that all along. It was _Cor_.)

The king's eyes lost their mirth, becoming incredibly serious. "I wish you well on your travels," he said. "Unfortunately, I cannot come to see you off. It is my understanding that you plan to leave immediately after this talk?" At their nods, he sighed. "You've grown up so fast, my son," he said, and reached across the desk to take Noct's hand - Prompto couldn't help but _look away_ and _try_ to _not_ hear what the king said next, feeling as if he was intruding upon a deeply private moment between father and son. "If your mother were here now, I know she would be just as proud of you as I am. You've...you've grown into a fine young man, Noctis, and I know you'll do Lucis proud at this event."

From the corner of his eyes, Prompto saw the king withdraw his hand and settle back against his seat, and felt safe in turning his attention forwards again. He did so just in time to see Noctis nodding slowly.

"Thank you, dad," he said softly, but with feeling. "I promise that I won't let you down."

-x-

To Prompto's surprise, all in all their departure from the palace was a quiet one. The king, Cor and the other man (who had turned out to be Gladio's father; the Lord Clarus Amicitia) had bid them farewell as they left the king's office; Ignis and Gladiolus escorted them to the garage, and then they were gone - Noct in the driver's seat and Prompto himself slipping into the passenger's beside him, leaving behind the palace and the busy hub of the citadel for the quieter streets of the middle class area Prompto lived in.

He frowned as the car pulled to a stop in front of his unit - though he'd wanted to go there, for the guns Cor had stashed for him if nothing else, he hadn't exactly _mentioned_ that fact to Noct yet, it having slipped his mind. He sent his friend a questioning look, and Noctis shrugged.

"Figured you'd want to pick out a camera or a lens or something," he said. "If not, I'll just keep driving down the highway right now."

Prompto quickly assured him that he really did want to get some film and stuff actually, thanks, and no, he was only going to be like five minutes, so Noctis _definitely_ did have to come inside; just keep the engine running and I'll be right out, okay?

Keys jangling as he unlocked his door and stepped inside to be greeted by a silence he had never grown used to, Prompto made fast for his bedroom, and ducked to his knees to pull out a slim case - elegant and sleek but plain, almost like any ordinary briefcase if not for the heavy duty passcode protected lock on the front as a security measure - it looked pretty much identical to the old leather case he'd had to carry around high school; just more expensive, probably.

He punched in sequence the numbers that were scattered across his codeprints - his and Cor's go to safe words, as well as anything and everything to do with security relating to Prompto since the pattern of numbers and letters were all but burned into his brain. Even if one day he gave in to the chaos screaming always inside of him, or fell prey to whatever kill switch Niflheim had probably implanted in their precious designer soldiers, he'd still remember his codeprints, he knew.

Twin handguns - pistols, really, one iridescent white and the other a glossy ebony black; weapons made of mother-of-pearl and obsidian, it looked like, gilt filigree curling over the barrel and shining like gold on black and silver-chrome on white. They were beautiful, almost more so than the clothes tailored specifically for him that now rested on the back seat of the car beside Noct's, and he couldn't help but wonder just what they would look like in concert.

Breaking out of his thoughts, Prompto shook his head clear. It was a stupid thing to be wondering about, since even if he did take the guns with him into the Gala - it wouldn't be like he would be _parading_ them around. He swiftly clicked the case shut once more, and (thankful for its small, slim size and shape) slid it into the large, specialized duffel that he had splurged on a few years back that held all of the camera equipment he'd collected since getting into the hobby, and then getting _serious_ about it.

"Took you long enough," Noct scolded him playfully as he collapsed back into the car, slamming his door shut and sliding his bag under his seat. "I was about ready to go in and look for you."

Prompto shrugged, and grinned as he sat back in his seat and pulled his seatbelt on, a feeling of anticipatory exhilaration sweeping through him - and, looking over at Noctis, he could see that selfsame sensation working its way through his friend.

"We're...leaving the city," Noctis said quietly, eyes wide and skin pale as if he was _testing_ the words as the EXIT sign loomed above them. "And I mean...no adults, or guards, or...anything. Just us. _Really_ leaving Insomnia."

A nervous laugh spasmed its way out of Prompto's throat and he drummed his fingers against his thigh. "It's kind of scary, isn't it?" He asked, the laugh still evident and infecting his voice. "Goodbye, Insomnia," he said as one of the guards - Kingsglaive? Sure looked like it, in that uniform - waved them through without making them stop so everyone around the gates could see that the Crown Prince was leaving; the reason they were taking an unmarked, plain (if still beautiful and more than what Prompto could afford if he saved up for a _lifetime_ ). "At least, for now."

Fingers drumming on the wheel, Noctis exhaled, his breath hissing a skittering beat through his teeth. "Yeah," he agreed, and made no move to protest when Prompto reached for the radio. "Tenebrae, here we come."

|[-O-]|

It didn't take long for the exhilaration of leaving Insomnia to fade into the monotony of boredom (even if faint traces of the fear Noct would never - _refused to_ \- admit to still lingered like the taste of warm copper at the back of his tongue), and after the third time the radio played Lenne's latest pop hit in about as many hours, he handed Prompto the aux and told him to play something that, at the very least, wouldn't kill his focus along with his ears.

Prompto had snorted, playing at mock offense, and the next ten minutes had been all but silent save the gentle humming roar of the engine and their soft breathing as his friend tapped his way through his phone's playlist to find something that Noctis wouldn't protest _too_ much to being subjected to.

He eventually settled on something instrumental, it seemed, and as the (admittedly catchy) sounds of strings and drums flooded soft and sweet throughout the car, Noctis couldn't help but stare from the corner of his eyes at his friend. Prompto stretched, both arms high above his head and his hair (still down and loose and falling in soft, natural waves from a lack of product) blowing back in the wind rushing past them with the roof down. There was a wild grin on his face and his eyes were closed, and a sort of swooping sensation _attacked_ Noctis as he thought, _he's really cute like this_ \- because of course, rushed out of the castle that same way he'd apparently been rushed out of his house the day before, he was still dressed in the clothes Noctis had lent him that morning; the too long sleeves rolled up to reveal pale forearms with slight definition that had Noctis wondering about the merits of both photography and running, because _damn_ did Prompto have nice arms - he'd nearly choked upon seeing them when his friend had apparently ( _finally_ ) gotten hot enough to admit defeat and tug the sleeves up; normally he wore long sleeved shirts no matter the temperature; probably due to whatever insecurity made it so that he never took that wristband of his off, either.

While humming along to the track playing out of the car’s speakers, Prompto tapped away at his phone screen – Noctis could just barely see the colours of Sensa bordering the app he had open; so he was talking to someone – before looking up to see Noctis staring at him.

He smiled. “Shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on the road?” He teased, and Noctis sent a long look down the straight, empty highway in answer.

“Sure,” he said dryly. “Of course.”

And then he shivered, as the heat of the air cooled _noticeably_ , plunging the temperature into a sudden drop – the sky had greyed, clouds covering the sun as a harsher breeze picked up.

“Gotta love Cosmolatry,” Prompto sighed, a grimace flickering across his face as he tugged his sleeves back down, much to Noctis’ dismay.

“You know it’s coming once the bad weather sets in,” Noctis agreed. “Shouldn’t get much worse than this, though. The first day isn’t even here yet and it’s always the mildest.”

Prompto nodded in agreement. “The first for us humans,” he said. “And we’re no good with the cold.”

A smile tugged at Noctis’ lips. “And then Titan for the second,” he continued. “Colder than our day, but not by much. His is when the ground freezes.”

“Ramuh, for the third,” Prompto said, and there was something amusing – exciting, bizarrely – in reciting facts they’d known since they were children. Maybe it was just because Cosmolatry was so fast approaching or because of what they were doing for it that year, but talking about the Astrals and the roles they played just filled the car with a holiday spirit. “He brings the storms and blizzards follow.”

“Shiva, for the fourth,” Noctis said. “At the peak of Cosmolatry, Her day is the coldest.”

“For the fifth, Leviathan. On this day Her waves crash and river start to flow again; Shiva’s ice starting to loosen its grip upon the world.”

Signaling a turn even though there was no one else on the road – Ignis had taught him both strictly and well – Noctis continued on, “for the sixth, Bahamut. On this day the earth thaws.”

“And for the seventh and final day,” Prompto said, “honour is given to Eos, Lady of the Dawn, as she ushers in a new year and breaks through the last of the Glacian’s winter.”

Humming in agreement, Noctis said, “You know, I always wondered why Ifrit didn’t get a day.”

“Well, he was a traitor, wasn’t he?” Prompto blinked.

“I know that _now_ ,” Noctis grumbled. “I just…didn’t when I was a kid. He – He was unhappy with how the other Astrals were running things, right? So he tried to take them out, and that was how Titan got trapped under the meteor; Ifrit summoned it to imprison Him. He was going to take out the other Astrals, too, but Shiva extinguished his flames before he could.”

But Prompto was frowning. “That’s not the story _I_ heard,” he said, and Noctis blinked.

“That’s how it was written in my copy of the Cosmogony,” he said. “Granted, it was an illustrated version meant for kids, so a lot of the stories were toned down – but _all_ copies of the Cosmogony in circulation are Oracle and Tenebrae approved. So, I’m not wrong…?”

“I’m not saying you _are_ ,” Prompto was quick to reassure. “I’m just saying, that’s not the version I grew up hearing.”

“So…what happened in your tale, then?” Noctis asked, curious now.

Prompto shrugged. “Well, Ifrit was still a traitor, but – you know how the Astrals were sent by Lady Eos from Her Field to watch over this world and guard it, because Her favoured children – us, humans – were here? So that’s what the Astrals were doing, guarding over our world in place of Eos because She was going to sleep for a long, _long_ time – and eventually, Ifrit just got really sick of it? He couldn’t talk to Eos because She was sleeping in Her Field, and none of the other Astrals understood his feelings, so he decided the best way to get back to the Field and leave the mortal realm behind was to _destroy_ the mortal world Eos had told him to protect, along with everyone on it. So he summoned a giant meteor, and following Eos’ orders Titan took the hit and protected the world, while the others stalled Titan until Shiva could freeze him.”

Noctis whistled. “Okay, that’s cooler than the one I know,” he said. “But where did you hear that? The one I know is the one taught in schools, too.”

Prompto shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever even heard your version before now.”

“ _Huh,_ ” Noctis said. “Weird.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed, and then they were both flinching back into their seats as an ungodly _screech_ tore through the speakers and the stereo.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Noctis swore, the car jerking to a stop as he instinctively slammed down on the brakes. Prompto didn’t answer him, too busy frantically tapping at his phones screen in an attempt to _shut that noise off_. Seeing that his friend’s efforts were futile, Noctis took matters into his own hands and tore out the aux cord.

And then, blissful silence. They sighed in a relieved unison.

“The hell was that,” Noctis said flatly.

“I have _no idea_ ,” Prompto said, looking at his phone with wide, betrayed eyes as he turned it over in his hands in an attempt to puzzle out what had just happened. “If we’d been listening to the radio or I’d been streaming music to play, I’d say that the Glacian beginning to prepare for Cosmolatry was wreaking havoc with the atmosphere and signals, but I was just playing stuff out of my music app.” He frowned. “It doesn’t make sense for the problem to be coming from my phone.” He blinked questioningly up at Noctis, who took a moment to be glad of the fact that the road had been empty and remained as such since they had stopped before shaking his head in answer.

“It can’t be a fault with the car, either,” he said. “Not with how many times Ignis had it checked over, at least.”

Frowning, Prompto ceded the point. “I guess,” he said. “Then…maybe we should just…keep driving?”

“I…don’t think anything is wrong with the car?” Noctis said. “So, yeah, keep driving. We’re already hours out from Insomnia and there’s no way we can just _skip_ the Gala; may as well just keep on moving.”

“Okay,” Prompto said. “But maybe next gas station we pass, we take a break? We can switch over from who’s behind the wheel for a while and get a mechanic to take a look at the car, just in case.”

Noctis blinked over at his friend. “You know, you don’t actually _have_ to drive if you don’t want to,” he said, and turned the keys back to _on_ , engine humming to life with a soft roar. “I don’t mind.”

“Well, neither do I,” Prompto said. “And besides – you and I both know that you get grumpy if you don’t get your afternoon nap.”

Only the fact that Noctis was driving (and thus had both hands on the wheel; a cautiousness coming from years of Ignis’ lessons) saved Prompto from a painful death – or, at the very least, a playful punch.

-x-

Deferring to Prompto’s rare show of actual logic, the next time a sign advertising a gas station near them appeared on the lonely stretch of road they were traveling down, Noctis made for the turn off the sign indicated, fighting back a yawn.

Getting out of the car was a relief – though the air had chilled down quite a bit and the sky was as grey as dusk even though it was barely half past four, being able to stretch his limbs was a beautiful sensation – even as a nagging sensation of hunger (as well as a desire to make for the nearest restroom) made themselves known.

Prompto looked over at him as he lowered his arms from his own stretch. “Maybe I should go talk to the mechanic?” He offered. “Cor was right, you know – it isn’t Cosmolatry yet, so if you’re recognised, it wouldn’t be breaking any sacred laws to attack you.”

Noctis quirked a brow – they were still in Lucis territory; even if he _were_ recognised, who exactly did Prompto think would attack him? – but acknowledged Prompto’s point with a single nod. “If you’re sure,” he said. “Here – you can’t use Crown City credits outside of, well, the Crown City, but this card will send the bill to my dad, and he’ll take care of things.”

Taking up the card that Noctis held out, Prompto nodded. “Gotcha. Any preference for snacks?”

Noctis shrugged. “Nothing coffee flavoured?” he suggested. “I’m not too fond of licorice, either.”

Prompto saluted. “I know,” he smiled.

-x-

An hour later, back in the car and back on the road, simply with Noctis in the passenger’s seat and Prompto behind the wheel, Noctis yawned around his last mouthful of crisps.

Prompto glanced over at him. “You can go to sleep,” he reassured him. “I’ve got my music to keep me company.”

Noctis hummed in a sleepy agreement, before squinting across at his friend. “So did they figure out what was wrong with the car, then?”

“Nothing, apparently,” Prompto said. “Definitely not the stereo, at least. They said it probably was just some interference, somehow – even though it doesn’t make all that much sense, around Cosmolatry _everything_ runs weird.”

Slowly, Noctis nodded. “Right,” he said. “You sure you’re good if I fall asleep?”

“Absolutely,” Prompto smiled at him. “I’ve just got to drive us to Tenebrae.”

Noctis blinked, some awareness returning to his already half asleep mind. “You’re not planning on driving through the night, are you? I mean, this close to Cosmolatry you probably won’t have to worry about daemons, but…”

Startled, it seemed, Prompto let out a laugh. “Of course not,” he said. “I’ll drive for a few hours and then we can change over again – it would be best for everyone if we got to Tenebrae as soon as possible, don’t you think? After all, there’s only tomorrow, and then Cosmolatry’s here. We don’t want to arrive too late, or we won’t have enough time to rest and recover before the Gala itself.”

Noctis snorted, and closed his eyes once more as he slumped down in his seat. “You sound a bit like Ignis,” he said.

“Well…I’ll take that as a compliment!” Prompto said, and even with his eyes closed, Noctis could hear the smile in his tone.

“It was one,” Noctis reassured.

And then, he was asleep.

-x-

_Ice._

_Walls of ice, floors of ice – blue and green shining layered crystal from within, lit by the dawn and sheering the horizon._

_Cold._

_Solid cold, liquid cold; cold in the air. Noctis breathed, and white shimmered out to join wintery blue and green._

_Sun._

_Rising above the horizon line, gold and silver at the same time; warm and welcoming yet cold and foreboding, the Dawn surveys all. It’s blinding in its beauty. In Her beauty as she Awakes._

_Shiva._

_The Glacian, She stands. Surrounded by ice and wreathed in white, lit from above by the light of the sun._

_The Glacian, She speaks. In words not human, the Glacian Speaks._

_The Glacian, She smiles. In unearthly beauty, the Glacian Smiles._

_Standing, and smiling, she looks his way – and speaks once more._

_“T̨͜h̨e͝ Ki͢n̛g̴̸ ͜o̵͘͜f̨̛͝ ͟͝͏K̢̀i̸͠n͜͜gs҉͜͞,̸̴ ̡̀c̀͟ơ̸͝m͞e ̨̢͝to ̸͜w̴a̴̴͝t̡c̶͢҉h̷͡ ̶t͘he̸͢ ̡S̴̢u͡͝m̧͜m̸̢o̢͠n̨͡i̶͘͟ń͞͡ǵ̛̕?͝҉” Her smile is like Her ice; it shines painfully in the Dawn’s Light. “C̀o̵͘s̡̨mol̡͟͝a͜t̷̡r̵y͘͏ ̢͏̵i͜s҉̵͡ ̨u̧͢p̵ơ͏n̕ ̷u̧͢͝s̶̨͠,̕ ̧O͢͜ ̀Ki͞ņ̀g͠҉҉.̢̕ ͏̴̀W͠é́lc͏̸o̷͞m̛͠e̡͢ i͏t̴́͡,̢́͠ ̶a̛n̛͏d̡́ ̨̀͜R̶̵͞è͟j̡̧o̕i̵̧c͏͠e̵̡͡.”_

It was cold, and dark, the next time Noctis opened his eyes. He blinked sleep from his vision to squint at the glowing numbers visible on the clock in the dash – _03:17_.

“It’s twenty past three in the morning?” He groaned out, and from somewhere _vaguely_ above him, Prompto hummed in answer.

“Yeah,” he said softly, and Noctis felt his hand on his shoulder; nudge at his side. “I figured that you’d had a long enough sleep by now that you could take over for driving for this last stretch. According to the CPS, we’re very nearly there.”

He yawned, and stretched in his seat – above him, leaning over him, Prompto yelped as Noctis’ movements nearly toppled him over, Noctis’ limbs brushing against him in the small space.

“Good,” he said. “Sure. I’ll drive.”

Prompto laughed, low and bubbly. “How about you wake up, first?” He asked.

“No coffee,” Noctis grumbled as he pushed himself into a fully seated position – at some point, he’d slumped down in his chair.

“No, of course not,” Prompto said, and reached up to flick one of the overhead lights on. “But _yes_ to caffeine, I think.” Noctis blinked as he found a can of lukewarm, room temperature cola pushed into his hands. He looked at Prompto, who shrugged.

“If I had a way to make tea I would,” he said. “But I don’t…so, cola. Deal with it.”

Noctis snorted and cracked open the can. “Thanks,” he laughed.

“’welcome,” Prompto said, and settled back into his seat. “Hey, do you know what you were dreaming about?”

His mouth full of room temperature cola, Noctis swallowed before looking askance at Prompto. “Dreaming?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Prompto said. “You were making, like…weird noises. I don’t know.”

“Weird noises?”

“Like…mumbling? Hissing in tongues? Hell if I know; but you didn’t seem distressed or anything.” He shrugged, and Noctis tilted his head back with a soft _‘huh.’_

“I don’t know?” he said. “I don’t remember dreaming anything.”

“Fair enough,” Prompto said. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t remember half of my own dreams, either.”

But Noctis frowned – “you’d think, if my dream was enough to make me start _mumbling in tongues_ that I’d remember it.”

“Not gonna lie; that was pretty freaky. Thought for sure you were possessed or something.”

Prompto’s words were a reminder – and Noctis looked him over with concern. There was a tired strain to his face, but beyond that he seemed fine, and considering he had just pretty much driven through the night – yeah, seemed fair.

Still, “No daemon troubles?” Noctis ascertained.

“None,” Prompto said. “Must be close enough to Cosmolatry that they can’t break through the chaos – I mean, how fast can the Glacian _really_ freeze the earth for Titan’s day?”

“I don’t know,” Noctis said. “I’m not a god, and I’ve never exactly talked to one.”

“Well, if you ever meet one, ask for me!” Prompto all but sparkled and Noctis couldn’t help but laugh.

“If I ever meet one,” he agreed, still choking on his laughter (and his cola), “asking that question will totally be my first priority.”

-x-

In the end, it only takes about ten minutes, pulled up on the side of the road, for Noctis to wake up completely and get his act together. They switch seats and sides, exiting the car and walking around in the grey and misty predawn light, both of them shivering from the brisk chill that was settling deep within the earth. His breath fogged out before him and he rubbed his hands together, pulled the ends of his sleeves over his fingers, which were swiftly becoming red and stiff from the cold of the air.

Across the car, Prompto called out to him. “I’m going to make some calls before we get going again, okay?” He said, and Noctis signaled that he had heard him by waving his hand above his head, over the top of the car. Honestly, Prompto had the right idea – and so he pulled his phone from his pocket, grimacing at the way his jeans were rumpled from being slept in and sat in for a day and a night, and winced and flinched back from the light that emanated from the screen, bright and white and shining directly into his eyes.

He hit his dad’s name, and hesitated briefly to put the phone to his ear – what if he didn’t pick up? It was early, after all, and if Prompto and that mechanic had been right the current state of the atmosphere was playing havoc and chaos with signals…he shook his head clear as the ringer sounded.

Less than a minute later, and his father, sounding half asleep, answered the call with a slurred, “Noctis?”

Noctis exhaled. “Hey dad,” he said. “Morning.”

“Is it?” His dad’s voice was a grumble as he groaned, likely stretching in bed. “It doesn’t feel like it.” A pause. “It’s still dark outside.”

Noctis laughed. “Well, the sun may not be out yet, but I _think_ it’s still technically morning.”

“And where are you, Noctis? Did you stop at a motel for the night?”

“Nah, Prompto took over – don’t worry, there wasn’t any daemon trouble.” He hesitated. “Please don’t tell Ignis I let someone else behind the wheel while I was in the car and he wasn’t.”

His father let out a barking laugh. “Knowing Ignis, and how well he knows your habits, he would probably be relieved you didn’t try to drive during the dark hours, lest you fell asleep whilst driving.”

Even though his father couldn’t see it, Noctis rolled his eyes. “We’ll be at Tenebrae a bit before noon, probably,” he said. “I’ll make sure to give Luna your regards.”

“Do that,” his father agreed. “And do make sure to keep your friend in line.”

If it had been anyone else saying that, Noctis would have scowled – they didn’t _know_ Prompto, not like he did; didn’t know of his friend’s compassion and warmth and humor and respect that came from a place that purely loved _Noctis_ , not his title or his blood or his wealth; _so what right did they have to start judging him like he was dirt beneath their heels_ – but from his father, he knew it wasn’t an insult: more a grave fear, for both Prompto and Noctis himself. Cosmolatry or not, his father held no faith with Niflheim, and did not trust that any citizen of his (let alone one travelling with his _son_ , whom he _knew_ was locked in Niflheim’s sights as surely as he was) would be safe from their wrath; the reason they would be leaving the moment the Gala had ended, so not only would they arrive back in Insomnia hopefully _before_ the worst of the weeklong winter, but before the safe period of Cosmolatry was over and Niflheim felt assured enough of themselves to make a move against the Crown Prince of Lucis.

“I will,” he promised simply. “And he’ll return the favour, too.”

“He seems loyal,” his father agreed, and that commendation of Prompto made Noctis feel warm inside. “I am sure that he will.”

The slam of a door and the car shook slightly next to Noctis; Prompto must have finished with his call and slid into his new seat. “I’ve gotta go, dad,” he said. “Happy Cosmolatry, I guess? And…I love you.”

In his father’s voice, Noctis could hear his smile over the line. “As I love you, my son.”

|[-O-]|

Cor sounded perfectly awake when he picked up, which honestly didn’t surprise Prompto. He was almost one hundred percent certain that the man known as Cor Leonis was incapable of sleep – or at least, had no need of it.

“You should be close to Tenebrae,” he said in lieu of a greeting, but Prompto didn’t hold it against him. Cor just was the way he was.

“A few hours out,” he agreed, and tilted his head back to peer at the sky. The sun still hadn’t risen fully above the horizon line, so he couldn’t be sure, but the sky seemed clearer than it had the day before – a last glimpse of sunlight before winter set in. “Thought I’d give you a call to let you know that I’m still alive before we arrive; might not get the chance later.”

Cor grunted his agreement across the line. “You’ll be at the prince’s side at all times from now on,” he said, and his words were an order that Prompto rolled his eyes at even as he planned on following it.

“Yeah, totally,” Prompto said.

“Did you get the guns?”

“…yes,” Prompto said softly.

“You’ll carry them with you on all times, too.”

Prompto grimaced, but nodded. Somehow – he assumed – Cor heard him nod over the phone’s speaker, because he continued on, “I know you don’t like it, Prompto, but I’m just _trying_ to keep you safe. The _both_ of you safe.”

“No, it’s – it’s fine, Cor,” Prompto said, and hesitated. “…they were beautiful guns, Cor,” he said, and his voice was quiet from his reluctance to admit that. “Where did you get them?” Because guns were illegal in Insomnia and rare in Lucian territories outside of the Crown City; usually imported from makers in other kingdoms for the good quality ones – the ones made inside Lucis were average at best.

“They belonged to your mother,” Cor said, and Prompto felt his breath catch in his throat.

“…What?” he said, faintly.

“…Prompto, I know you said that you don’t care about her, or that you don’t want to know about her – and that’s _fine_ – but don’t throw away a pair of good guns because of who they belonged to once upon a time.”

His teeth snapped together with an audible _clack_ and he forced himself to keep them shut, gritting them to keep the words he wanted to snap out _in_. None of his problems had anything to do with Cor – the man didn’t deserve for him to yell at him over the fact that he was _right_.

“I _know_ ,” he said stiffly. “I won’t throw the guns away, okay?” His eyes traveled over to where Noct’s voice carried from – he must have been on the phone, too. “We’re about to leave,” he lied blatantly, and though Cor _probably_ knew that, didn’t bother to call him out on it.

“Then good luck,” Cor said. “And –”

“– stay safe?” Prompto interrupted dryly.

“– have _fun_ ,” Cor finished. “Brat.”

“Old man,” he retorted, and slammed a finger down on the ‘end call’ button before Cor could even get the chance to.

 _Mature, Prompto_ , Cor’s voice still rang his likely response in his head, anyway, and he sighed as he slid into the car; this time back into the passenger seat he’d started in the day before. His feet budged the bag that held his camera equipment and guns underneath the seat and he let out a nervous laugh as he remembered how nervous he’d been the day before, once he and Noctis had switched seats – what if the bag had rolled out from where he’d shoved it and his friend had somehow seen the case kept inside it; and figured out that he’d stored _guns_ in it? _Not_ a happy thought.

Prompto wasn’t left to stew in his own thought for long, because not even a minute later Noctis – seemingly done with his own phone call – slid, shivering, into the seat beside him.

“And onwards to Tenebrae,” he said with a smile directed Prompto’s way – he did his best to return it even as his nerves grew fuzzily in the back of his mind.

“Luna is going to _love_ you,” Noct promised with a grin. “She’ll be meeting us as we come in; we’ll be some of the first guests to arrive since most don’t turn up at the actual palace in Tenebrae until nightfall, when the Gala actually starts.”

Prompto nodded, to show he understood. “Cool,” he said. “Hey, if it’s okay with you – after driving all night, I’m actually a bit tired, and I don’t know if I’ll really be able to sleep once we arrive in Tenebrae, not with all the excitement – I’m going to nap for a little while.”

Noctis looked surprised, and maybe a little hurt, staring at Prompto with wide eyes – but he nodded, first slowly, and then with more feeling.

“Sure,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure to stay quiet; I know how light of a sleeper you are.”

Nodding his thanks and offering up a smile, Prompto settled back into his seat as comfortably as he could, and feel asleep to the sight of his best friend’s faint smile.

-x-

It felt like he’d only just barely closed his eyes when Noctis shook him gently awake.

“Sorry,” he apologized genuinely when Prompto grimaced, squinting at the bright light of the sun that must have fully risen at some point while he was out. “We’re not quite there yet, and I _would_ have let you sleep, but I thought that you might want to see this.”

Curiousity piqued, Prompto pushed himself out of his neck aching slump against the door, wedged in between it and his seat, and blinked sleep out of his eyes and mind far faster and more efficiently than Noctis ever could – unlike Noct, after all, he was definitely a morning person (even if he wasn’t always the biggest fan of the sun. His little chorus of screamers was quiet today, like they always were around this time of year – as if Cosmolatry wasn’t already his favourite holiday; Shiva’s winter froze them as still and silent as the rest of the world during the season), and waking quickly came with that territory.

He saw, then, just what Noctis had woken him up for – and sucked in a disbelieving breath at his first look of Tenebrae.

 _Green_ , was his first thought – but then he took in the way the gentle light of the sun broke through the elegant marble of towers and pillars that were elevated all along the horizon as far as the eye could see, with those verdant plants; green vines and violet-blue powers blossoming, entwined like lace around those pillars, great stretches and panes of glass shining in and splintering the light that traveled through.

“Beautiful,” he breathed out on an exhale, and his fingers _itched_ for his camera.

He couldn’t reach for it now – they were moving down the road, still, and unlike the highways of Lucis or the roads at night, these roads weren’t devoid of anyone other than them – but his hand scrambled for his phone, stashed in the side pocket of his car door, and swiped to the camera app automatically. “Noct, wind down my window,” he said, not wanting the glass to distort the image any further than his weak phone lens already would – and, sighing, Noct did so, mumbling _why don’t you just do it yourself?_

Cold air rushed through the car but Prompto ignored it, moving to rest on his knees and push his hands _out_ of the window – “Don’t drop your phone,” Noctis warned, and if Prompto hadn’t been focused on keeping his balance he would have kicked out at his friend; of _course_ he wasn’t going to drop his phone, _what did Noctis take him for_ – simply trying to catch as many snaps of the landscape as he could; there was no time for anything else, as painful as it was to admit.

“Get back in the car.” A hand on the back of his shirt, and Noctis tugged him back into his seat.”

“What?” Prompto pouted. “I was getting some good shots.”

“Good for you,” Noctis laughed. “But we’re about to enter Tenebrae proper.” He nodded forward, and Prompto leaned in that direction to peer at the tall gates that loomed above them like the entrance to some high level, end game dungeon.

Noctis pulled in past the gates without a problem – to Prompto’s surprise, there were no guards, which Noctis explained was because not only was Tenebrae holy land, meaning hundreds of people poured in and out of it each day, but also because Cosmolatry was not even twenty four hours away, meaning that all kinds of high profile people wanting to stay on the down low would be arriving intermittently throughout those twenty four hours. Guards were…just unnecessary.

And then the palace – so different to the tall and imposing building that went by the same name in Insomnia; Tenebrae’s palace ran long and low and sprawling – was just ahead of them, a winding drive leading the way through, and Prompto took in a deep breath – looked over to Noctis, who, for all his confidence and familiarity with this place, seemed to be about as nervous as he himself felt.

Another breath, and he reached out a comforting hand for Noctis. “Hey,” he said softly when his friend jumped under his touch, staring at him with wide eyes as he linked their fingers. “It’s going to be okay.”

A moment of silence, and then Noctis nodded firmly, the creases and lines around his eyes and mouth smoothing out as he recomposed himself. “I know,” he said quietly, and squeezed Prompto’s hand once before letting it go. “That’s Luna up there,” he said, and Prompto tracked his stare to the shape of a girl dressed in white standing in the entranceway of the palace, running down to meet the car halfway, waving.

“You excited to see her?” Prompto asked curiously, raising a hand to wave back even though he knew her greeting was likely for Noctis.

“Yeah,” Noctis said as he pulled the car into park, and turned the engine off; slipped the key out and handed it off to Prompto. “Keep an eye on that for me, won’t you?” He asked, as he stepped out of the car just in time to catch the Lady Lunafreya as she launched herself at him.

“Hey, you,” Noctis laughed, and twirled her around in his arms.

“Noctis!” She called out gleefully, and then ducked her head through his still open door to peer at Prompto, who – sitting frozen and wide eyed – had yet to leave the car. “And you must be Prompto!” Her smile was warm, eyes dancing with light as she extended a hand to him. Cautiously he took it, even though his mind was screaming at him – _what do I do? Shake it? Kiss it? What does she want from me?_ – and then she had pulled him against her, trapping him in a hug that was incredibly awkward, even if only for the fact that he was still strapped in on the other side of the car and her other arm was still clinging to Noctis; quite possibly the weirdest group hug Prompto had ever found himself a participant in.

Still, all three of them were grinning when she finally pulled back, and Prompto marveled at how the smile Lady Lunafreya gave him made it seem as if they had known each other forever.

“Welcome to Tenebrae, Prompto,” she said, her hand still locked around his. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this last scene wasn't at alllllllll because i'm still salty luna and prompto never got a chance to meet in game, not at all.
> 
>  
> 
> _at all_
> 
>  
> 
> happy new year, y'all!


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy howdy, this chapter was a _thing_.
> 
> sorry it took so long to get out! I had a bit of an...~episode~ and i'm pretty sure it was because of the really crap weather Tassie got hit with, but my brain was in a slump and I just couldn't get out of it. I was in a bad headspace so I took some me time, even if seeing all the really nice comments people were still leaving me made me feel really guilty for not updating. thank you guys for being so patient and understanding with me! not a single comment was all "update!!" in my face and that's, like, a first, so go all of you! gold stars and kudos all round.
> 
> also, there are going to be more chapters now...hopefully only two more, but then again, this thing was meant to be a oneshot. _I have no idea how it got so damn plotty_.
> 
> You may notice that Gentiana doesn't speak like she does in game, and that's because...well it's because fuck writing poetry everytime I want a character to use dialogue. fuck gen's speech patterns all the way to hell.
> 
> (also I pronounce her name with a soft 'g' no matter how it's meant to, so...I also don't particularly care for "tee-dus," whose with me)
> 
> hmu about any worldbuilding and lore questions you have pertaining to this au because I have _thoughts_ but my brain is stupid and can't explain them clearly unless i'm given a very direct prompt to do so, soz.
> 
> enjoy the chapter even though it's probably the most boring one by far.

Prompto may have been a little bit in love.

Though both he and Noctis were stiff, tired and hungry from the long drive and hours spent sitting in car seats, Lady Lunafreya's presence was invigorating - her enthusiasm and happiness at seeing Noctis once more; the kindness she showed Prompto and her genuine pleasure at meeting them made it so that the thoughts and desires they had had before arriving in Tenebrae faded to the backs of their minds, a concern for a later time.

"And these are my chambers." Lady Lunafreya smiled over her shoulder at the two of them as she led them through a set of glass accordion doors that led into an open lounge area, with bookshelves lining the walls and a desk in one corner. "My bedroom itself is removed from the public eye, though, since people like to make a habit of visiting me here." Amazingly, she didn't sound annoyed by this fact - and as Prompto was just in general awe of the Lady herself, to say nothing of her open nature, she smiled directly at him.

"Prompto, there's someone I want you to meet," she said, and next to him Noctis let out a soft ' _oh?_ ' as she continued on, adding, "they've been eager to see you again for quite some time."

With that, her attention turned elsewhere as she walked off a little ways - presumably to fetch whoever was excited to see him, apparently - and Noct eyed him with an emotion just sort of suspicion. "Someone she wants you to meet?" He asked, eyes narrowing. "Hold on - do you and Luna _know_ each other?"

Helplessly, Prompto shrugged. The answer was _no_ , of course, but it wasn't all as simple as that, and even just admitting that he had received _one_ single letter from her once would bring about a slew of questions inquiring as to _why_ Prompto had never just _told_ him - like it was _that_ easy.

Thankfully, the oncoming interrogation was interrupted by the sound of Lady Lunafreya's voice and the skittering of claws on marble tiles drawing closer - and it was in that moment that excitement flooded through Prompto, as he realised just 'who' it was Lady Lunafreya wanted him to meet.

"Look, Pryna!" She said, and pointed to Prompto as she reentered the room, snow white dog at her side.

_Tiny_ , he thought giddily, and automatically went to one knee as her ears perked up once she had spotted him, letting out a single bark as she ran to him at full speed in what he could only presume was an attempt to bowl him over - and then he held a wriggling, writhing ball of warmth and fluff in his arms as a warm wet tongue smacked across his face. "Hey, girl," he cooed as he reached his arms around to hold onto the frantically eager dog a little and scratched at the ruff of her neck, just behind her ears.

A giggle - there was no other word for the sound he heard - drew his attention upwards, and he saw both Noct and Lady Lunafreya standing over him; Lady Lunafreya's eyes sparkling as she took in the sight of her dog and Prompto cuddling on the ground, and Noct's...confused, but not _mad_ or anything, which was good.

"How does it feel, Pryna?" Lady Lunafreya asked, and Tiny - Pryna - stilled in his arms, cocking her head to one side as if considering her mistresses' words, as if she had heard and then _understood_ them. "To meet your hero, huh?"

Noctis blinked. "... _Hero?_ " A faint smile quirked at his lips, quickly bleeding into a smirk as he stared down at Prompto, even though his gaze was piercing and begged for an explanation.

“I found an injured puppy when I was taking photos, years ago,” Prompto said, reducing the story to as simple terms as possible. “I looked after her until she left one day – I was really worried until I got a letter from her owner explaining that she’d made it home safely and thanking me for looking after their dog.”

“That was me!” Lady Lunafreya was grinning cheerfully at the both of them as they glanced her way.

“So, you two…know each other?” Noctis was looking from Prompto to Lunafreya with a conflicted (slightly wounded) look on his face, and Prompto was quick to reassure his friend that that was most definitely _not_ the case with a quick denial.

“No, she just sent me the one letter,” Prompto said. “And I didn’t answer, because…well, I thought maybe she’d just sent it to me as a formality? Like, because of some oracle law or something?”

Lunafreya laughed. "I just wanted to thank you," she said, sounding so amused that Prompto blushed. "I wouldn't have been made if you'd replied."

Prompto forced a laugh of his own. "Maybe disappointed, though," he pointed out, and Lady Lunafreya wasn't the only one to scowl.

"So you love Prompto more than me now, huh girl?" Noctis crouched down beside Prompto, reaching out a hand to pat Pryna all while pointedly ignoring his words in a way Prompto was all too used to - even if they weren't going to get into it _now_ , Noct likely not wanting to distress Lady Lunafreya - at some point, Prompto was going to get yelled at, or at least told off, for his persistent jokes about his _stupid_ inferiority complex.

_After all,_ something deep inside him said, _you're not the inferior one here_.

Prompto blinked, and scowled, and _paled_ as he shoved those insidious thoughts somewhere that he (hopefully) wouldn't be able to hear them from, and mentally counted back hours in his head - when was the last time he'd taken his meds? Before they'd left Insomnia? _Probably_ \- and that was bad, and Cor would _murder him_ if he found out that Prompto just wasn't all that great at taking care of himself like any regular adult could; but it wasn't like he _enjoyed_ what happened to him when he wasn't taking the pills at regular intervals, and so he stared mutely at the two other people in the room - Noctis and Lady Lunafreya, both smiling as Noct wrestled with Pryna on the floor - and wondered how best to get them _back_ to the car and their luggage so he could dose himself before _anything_ got much worse - because that little hiss of darkness wasn't the same as his personal chorus of screamers, and he _never_ wanted to let that wall down between them long enough to find out what it _really_ was.

"Hey, uh - Lady Lunafreya?" He asked. "I don't mean to sound rude, or ungrateful or anything, but...is there any way we could go to our rooms now? I, like, _really_ need a shower, and I wouldn't say no to a little bit of sleep, either."

She blinked, then smiled, and nodded after a quick glance at Noctis showed that he was in agreement. “Of course,” she said, and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I probably should have considered that before dragging you around – I was just so excited. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Noct was quick to reassure her. “Neither of us minded…we’re just a bit tired, and it’s hitting us hard now.”

Ruefully, Lunafreya shook her head. “Come on, then,” she said. “We’ll collect your luggage and then take you to your rooms, okay?”

-x-

Nearly thirty minutes later, and Prompto collapsed back onto the bed by the high arching windows he was claiming as his own, regardless of what Noctis wanted – he’d just exited the shower, skin and hair still slightly damp and clothes clinging to his skin as Noct yawned and made his way into the bathroom after Prompto with a soft, tired _‘thanks.’_

He honestly just wanted to curl up in the blankets that probably had a thread count higher than Prompto could even comprehend and sleep for about a decade, but the hissing in the back of his mind was starting to blur and blend with the screamers, no matter how quiet they’d become with the onset of Cosmolatry approaching, and he was kind of scared that if he let himself sleep, he’d sink into that chorus and never break out of it again.

He didn’t want Noctis to worry, though – so, taking advantage of the fact that his friend liked to take abominably _long_ showers, he reached down to grab the bag he’d placed beside his bed in order to rummage through it – Cor had said he’d packed enough of his meds to last him through Cosmolatry and beyond; all he had to do was find them – which _probably_ wouldn’t be hard: knowing Cor, his bags would have been packed as impeccably as everything else the older man did.

The pills themselves weren’t store bought, or even manufactured by any sort of company – that sort of defeated the purpose of their existence, after all. The ‘first generation’ of MTs – Prompto’s generation – hadn’t been designed as soldiers, like they were mass produced to be today; originally, the vision set forth for the MT program had been _stealth_ – after all, who would expect children, _human_ looking children, to be capable of the feats of violence and brutality that daemons were? The plan, he thought, had been too slowly – ever so slowly – slip MTs into Insomnia hidden among crowds of fleeing refugees as orphans until the Lucian Crown City was all but _swarming_ with a ready-made army of inhuman child soldiers waiting for the kill order.

Prompto wasn’t sure why the plan had changed – only knew _when_ , and that when it _had_ , the entirety of the first MT generation had been declared obsolete, and that was why he’d managed to be freed at all – the research assistants (including the woman they’d all simply known as _matron_ that he now knew was actually his _mother_ ) had apparently had a collective crisis of conscience; experimenting on kids was okay, but mass execution? Oh, of course, _that_ was a big no-no – and they’d all scattered, taking Prompto and the rest of the first generation all over the continent and beyond with them. His mother had made it to Insomnia with him, but – after depositing him into Cor’s care – had left once again. He didn’t know what had happened to her, but Cor seemed convinced she was dead, so…best to just believe him, in the end. Nothing good would come of wondering – or hoping.

His meds, though – only the fact that he had been _designed_ to be used for solo stealth missions had kept him alive in Insomnia, really. The parts of him that were daemon, born and twisted of chaos, never played well with the majority of him that was still human – the pills kept the screamers in check, mostly, stopping the MT taking the pills in question from mutating any further and granting the same guard to sunlight that the light-absorbent armor of the current generation of MTs provided; though a mostly human body granted him more protection from traditional daemon weaknesses than he would otherwise have, Prompto was still _just_ daemon enough to fall prey to the curse that was sunlight. So, he was incredibly grateful to the foresight the researchers had had in designing the meds as a simple herbal mix that could be made quickly from plants that grew almost anywhere and could be consumed in almost anyway – the pills were just a convenience (though packing the herbal powder into the gelatin caps Cor had shipped to his unit was always a bother); he could (and had) just as easily take in what he needed from a tea blended with the mixture, or from _smoking_ it, in a pinch – though, granted, that method was slower acting and far less effective than the others.

He was just scooping the plain bottle out of his bag and placing two of the pills in his mouth, planning to swallow them dry, when the door to the room – closed behind Lady Lunafreya when she’d left after escorting them earlier – slammed open, hitting the wall with enough force and a loud enough _bang_ that Prompto jumped, yelped, and nearly bit his tongue clean off as his mouth automatically slammed shut and he swallowed.

The guy that had opened the door looked at him like he wasn’t quite sure just _what_ he was staring at, and Prompto pressed a hand to his chest as subtly as he could as he glared – his heart felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest.

“…You’re not Noctis,” the guy said, a faint curl to his lips that had Prompto’s shoulders tensing as soon as he spoke; an accent similar to Lady Lunafreya’s in his voice.

“Clearly,” Prompto said. He spoke stiffly, but not as hostile as he honestly wanted – he was, after all, a guest there, and if there was one thing he could take away from looking the guy over besides the fact that he was an absolute _dick_ , it was that he was _someone_ of some level of importance – no way would he be wandering freely about the palace with gold brocade pressed into his clothing otherwise.

As if taken aback, the man let out a faint snort, and raised an eyebrow at Prompto. “You _are_ with him, though, I suppose?”

Prompto simply stared. “Sorry, but who are you?”

“…Ravus Nox Fleuret,” the man said.

_Lady Lunafreya’s brother_ , Prompto realised, and narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to see Noctis?”

“No reason,” Ravus said, easily enough, though there was _something_ burning in his eyes that had Prompto on edge. “Tell me, do you know the Prince Caelum well?”

“I think it would be best for you to leave,” Prompto said, deliberately ignoring the man’s question as his gaze roved curiously – suspiciously? – over the room they were staying in and their belongings, lingering briefly on the bottle of pills Prompto still held in his hand in a way that made him want to cover them up; hide them from view.

“I suppose,” Ravus said. “Tell Noctis I was looking for him.”

Prompto watched, slightly uneasy, as he left the room as quickly as he’d entered it, pulling the door shut behind him, leaving only an echoing silence. In the ensuite, the sound of the water was still running, so Noct hadn’t heard the door open or close – and Prompto kind of wanted to keep that lack of awareness in the way. He didn’t know why, but something about Ravus Nox Fleuret seemed… _off_. There was a bad taste lingering in his mouth as he reclined back onto the bed, and he debated internally, warring with himself as to whether or not he _should_ tell Noctis about Ravus’ visit.

In the bathroom, the sound of running water stopped, and Prompto heard the sound of the shower’s glass door clicking open and then shut as Noctis must have stepped out of it – he hissed out a breath and pressed his eyes shut; there was no way he could lie to Noctis, even by omission, and if Ravus _was_ up to… _something_ , like his gut feeling implied he _was_ , then – well. It would be best for Noctis to at least be prepared and _alert_ for it, wouldn’t it?

Inspiration hit, and – before Noct could finish getting dressed or prettying up his hair – Prompto reached for his phone, and sent a text Cor’s way.

_Do you know why RNF has issues with Noct?_

He’d barely even lifted his finger from the ‘send’ button when Cor’s reply came through – Prompto blinked, because while Cor was usually pretty good at communication and keeping his phone close, that was inhumanly fast, even for him. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth – was Cor _worried_ , and hovering over his phone because of that?

_He blames K.RLC for Nif occupation of Tenebrae/death of SNF. NLC/Lucis acceptable proxies._

“Huh,” Prompto huffed out a small breath as he stared at Cor’s reply – Ravus still seemed like a dick, if an _understandable_ one, but his main concern was – what, then, did he want from Noctis? He doubted it was simply a friendly chat.

The door to the ensuite began to open – Prompto bit his lips, shoved his worries and concerns to the back of his mind, and just swore to himself that he’d keep an eye on Noctis while they were here; something he’d been planning on doing anyway, after all.

Noct entered their room yawning, looking damp and tired and rumpled with a towel around his neck. He blinked at Prompto from the doorway and let out a groan. “I’m hungry,” he said. “But I’m honestly too tired right now to care.” He tilted his head questioningly, shooting Prompto a look. “Want to just crash and eat later?”

“Yes,” Prompto blurted out in relief. He was hungry, sure, but after taking his pills – honestly, the best thing for him to do was just sleep and let the medicine work its magic. “Please, I could sleep for, like, a century.”

Noctis let out a low laugh and, rubbing the towel slowly across his hair, wandered over to the bed by the door, the one that Prompto _hadn’t_ claimed. “I’ll just message Luna, then,” he said. “Let her know not to expect us for a few hours.”

Prompto rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into his pillow, too tired to even bother with the covers. “Or a few _years_ ,” he mumbled.

|[-O-]|

Across the room, Prompto’s breathing evened out and deepened as Noctis typed out a message to Luna – he flicked his eyes up to see Prompto lying face down with his arms curled beneath him, his still damp hair a dark, wavy gold falling in his closed eyes as he slept.

He smiled and shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he turned his attention back to his phone – his eyes were aching and his eyelids were heavy, but he squinted at the screen just long enough to take in Luna’s reply; a smiley face emoticon.

He laughed, and threw his phone down – the carpet was thick enough that it wouldn’t be damaged, and it was like he had thrown it _hard_ – before throwing himself back against the pillows and attempting to become one with the bedding, the mattress beneath him. It wasn’t as comfy as his own bed back home but it was leagues better than the car had been and lying there, warm and clean and with the soothing rhythm of Prompto’s soft breaths filling the air, was just as lulling as the continuous hum of the engine had been – and so, it wasn’t very long before Noctis found his eyes drifting shut, consciousness giving way willingly to sleep.

-x-

Somehow – Noctis _really_ wasn’t entirely sure how or why, because he could have _sworn_ he was nowhere near _that_ exhausted – the two of them had slept not only through most of the day, but the night, as well. He woke up feeling both refreshed and disoriented in pre-dawn darkness to find Prompto already awake, sitting cross-legged atop his sheets and blankets on his bed on the other side of the room, face illuminated by the light of his phone as he stared down at it.

“Merry Cosmolatry,” he whispered as Noctis stared. “It’s about five a.m.”

Slumping back down, Noctis threw his head back against the pillow with a groan. “That’s two days in a row I’ve woken up ungodly early,” he complained. “This holiday season is going to throw my schedule completely out of whack.”

“More like your body clock,” Prompto teased gently. “And, knowing you, you’ll more than make up for it later.”

Noctis grinned. “Yeah, probably,” he agreed – and then realised just what it was Prompto had said. “Wait, what?” He blinked, jaw falling slightly open. “Cosmolatry? _Already?_ ”

Mutely, Prompto nodded, and Noctis tried not to feel the bitter sting of disappointment that stabbed at him at the confirmation. If it truly was the first day of Cosmolatry the Gala was that night, then, and that meant that, sooner rather than later, they’d be leaving Tenebrae behind and on the road once again – and though he literally _couldn’t_ have helped it, having needed sleep, Noctis couldn’t help but feel cheated out of time spent with Luna (also some more time spent alone with Prompto on the road – he’d been having _fun_ so far, _actual_ fun), and felt reluctant at the idea of even more time passing.

“…Do you think Luna would be awake, yet?” He asked, and Prompto looked over at him.

“Of course she is,” Prompto said. “She’s the oracle, and it’s Cosmolatry. She’ll be at the temple for the dawn service; it starts at half-past.”

Noctis blinked, and realised – yes, Prompto was right. “How do you know more about this than I do?” He asked curiously. “I’m the one that’s been here before.”

Prompto held his phone up in answer. “It’s all over Sensa,” he said. “People are posting all over the forums to see who is going and who isn’t.”

Turning over in his bed, Noctis looked at Prompto consideringly. “Do _you_ want to go?”

Humming, Prompto shrugged. “I’m good either way,” he said. “But if you want to see Luna first thing, then I’m good with heading up there now.”

Noctis smiled brightly at Prompto – it was clear to him his friend was still exhausted, with anxiety and stress still playing havoc with his nerves and weighing down on his mind; yet he was completely and entirely willing to just jump out of bed and go out into the freezing cold morning air just for his sake. “I can go alone,” he offered as he sat up with a groan.

Prompto laughed. “If you think I’m letting you wander around by yourself, you’re crazy,” he said.

Noctis raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t trust me to look after myself?” He asked, amused, and Prompto barked out a laugh.

“No, no,” he reassured. “I don’t trust _myself_ to be left alone here. Like, what if someone sees me and _asks_ me things?”

“Things? Like what?”

“I – I don’t know. _Things_.”

Noctis shook his head. “Well, let’s both get dressed then,” he said. “You don’t need to dress _fancy_ or anything for the morning service – it’s too cold and too early for anyone to care, really – but you can’t appear before the gods in your pajamas.”

Prompto smirked. “I’m not wearing pajamas,” he pointed out.

“Maybe not,” Noctis said. “But you _did_ sleep in them.”

Prompto pouted at him. “C’mon, Noct,” he whined. “It’s cold and these clothes are _warm_. I don’t want to get changed just to have to get warm all over again.”

Prompto had a point, Noctis could admit that to himself. But more than anything, the idea of going into public in clothes he’d spent the night in was a horrifying one. The day before had been one thing – he’d been exhausted and it had been _Luna_ , who was special anyway – but he was _not_ going to repeat it at the temple, and he _definitely_ was not going to let Prompto get away with doing it himself. “Just get dressed,” he said. “I’ll even lend you a winter coat, I think Gladio packed me a few.”

Prompto shuddered and hissed when he pushed the blankets from his lap, but still stood as he sighed and said, “fine.”

-x-

The temple was beautiful in the gray, misty light of dawn – the first frost of Cosmolatry creeping up and across marble pillars and vines as Shiva Herself attended the dawn service alongside the rest of the humans flooding into the holy building – if slowly, laughter and warning cries filling the air as people slipped on the icy stairs.

“Be careful,” Noctis laughed as Prompto stumbled slightly from not watching where he was going but rather the people all around them, crowding in. Prompto huffed from underneath the raised collar of the dark woolen coat Noctis had lent him, air fogging out white in the cold even through the thick knit of the material and rolled his eyes.

“I wish I had my camera,” he said, voice muffled but still clear enough for Noctis to hear it, even under the noise of the crowd.

“It is a shame,” Noctis agreed. Unlike Prompto, he had absolutely no eye for art of any kind, but Prompto’s photography had always managed to grip and affect him in ways only the paintings hanging in the hall just before the throne room back in Insomnia had, and even he had to admit – the air surrounding the area at the bottom of the temple stairs was almost magical; enough to keep even Noctis wide awake and not longing for a return to bed. “It’s sad that you can’t at least bring your phone, either.”

Prompto shrugged. “It’s a holy place,” he said. “The holiest, actually. I don’t mind all _that_ much that technology is banned from entering its walls.”

“Your fingers are trembling,” Noctis observed. “Are you _sure_ you’re not having withdrawals from being blocked from accessing Sensa for so long?”

Prompto scowled. “It’s _cold_ ,” he protested. “Also, it’s been like, fifteen minutes. I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Not that bad at what?”

In unison, both Noctis and Prompto jumped about a mile in the air – Noctis whirled, to see Luna fighting a smile from where she stood just behind his shoulder, Gentiana at her side making no such effort.

“Luna,” he smiled, and her own answering one was _definitely_ amused.

“Good morning!” She greeted cheerfully, a spot of light and colour amidst the morning mist, blue silks lined with white fur and layers of lace pressed atop with silver brocade, hair loose and falling down her back and over her shoulders. Her gaze, bright and all but glowing, switched to Prompto. “And good morning to you, too, Prompto,” she said, her eyes widening as she looked him over – she sent Noctis an even _more_ amused look, and honestly he was just confused, and squinted back at her.

“Uh – right, yes, good morning, Lady Lunafreya.” Prompto was adorably flustered, and he dipped into a quick bow all while sending Noctis a look that screamed _help me_ , clearly at a loss as what to do; what the proper etiquette was.

Well, if Prompto hadn’t figured it out, Noctis wasn’t going to tell him. After all, the appropriate way to treat a friend was far from how one should treat royalty or an oracle, but Prompto had never really paid much attention to the lines and degrees of separation others tried to enforce around him, anyway. He’d relax and figure it out, soon enough – that Luna didn’t really care, not for etiquette or for the ‘proper’ care he was treating her with (or at least attempting to).

“Please, Prompto,” Luna said, proving Noctis’ thoughts right. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Just call me Luna.” She laughed a little. “And you don’t have to _bow_.” She winked, raising a finger to her lips and pulling the pale ice-blue hood of her silk wrap over her head. “Right now, I’m incognito. It wouldn’t do for the people here to see me and get _too_ excited, or swarm – what if someone got hurt?” She sent a pointed look down at the speckled marble that made up the stairs. “Gentiana’s helping me sneak in,” she grinned. “Will you two hang back after the service? I would like to talk to you both, before I’m dragged off to prepare for the ceremony.”

"Sure," Noctis agreed easily, while Prompto - cheeks pink and apparently wordless - shot her a thumbs up.

She smiled at the both of them one last time as Gentiana stepped forward to place a hand gently on the small of her back and push her forwards, a hint that it was time for her to forge her way through the crowds, most likely. The dawn service was, after all, scheduled to begin in only a few minutes.

Noctis watched the bright speck of white and colour that was Luna as she made her way up the steps with faraway eyes, before he turned to Prompto and said, "we should probably start making our way inside, too, unless you want to be part of the crowd that watches the service from outside, on the steps." He pointed to the area at the very bottom of the steps, on either side of the elaborate and grandly carved railings that bordered the staircase itself, where people were beginning to spread out blankets on frosty grass; they'd likely stay there throughout the day until it came time for Luna to perform the rites at midnight, giving offerings and prayers each hour and each meal to the Six and the Lady Eos.

Prompto blanched and shuddered at Noctis' half joking suggestion. "No, please," he said, somewhat frantically. "It's cold enough just standing here; I don't want to be out here for who _knows_ how many hours - I mean, it's rude to leave during the service, isn't it?"

Noctis nodded. "Even though, sometimes, it runs _really_ long," he said. "It all depends on how many blessings the oracle has to give. A few years back, when Luna was younger and sort of new to the oracle thing, it would take forever."

He frowned when he said this, remembering how quiet and pale Luna had been in those first few years of Niflheim occupation - how nervous and quick to flinch she had been - and Prompto, maybe seeing how the subject made him uneasy or just figuring out for himself what it meant that she had been 'new to the position of oracle' and working back the calendar in his head (Prompto was _smart_ , after all - not Ignis levels of intelligent, but _clever_ all the same), tugged on his sleeve, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Well, let's go, then," he said, and smiled. "You'll want to be up front, won't you? So you can see Lady Lunafreya perform the blessings."

Despite himself, Noctis blushed - he could feel his cheeks heat and redden as blood rushed to the surface - and from Prompto's smirk it was obvious, but he refused to sink to his friend's level, or rise to the bait. "Well, don't you?" he asked instead, and Prompto blinked, like he hadn't been expecting to have his question turned around on him.

"I - I guess?" He said, voice startled; clearly caught off guard. "I mean, it _would_ be kind of cool..." he trailed off with a pout as Noctis smirked at him, and Noctis was just happy that the chill of the air meant his red face wasn't out of place.

"Let's go, then," he said, and gestured up the stairs to the well-lit entrance of the temple. "And _don't_ trip," he cautioned, as Prompto did exactly that; slipping on the steps and nearly taking Noctis down with him as he grabbed frantically for his arm, and clung onto it - for balance.

"Maybe I should just hang onto you," Prompto exhaled unsteadily, looking grey as he regained his balance with the help of Noctis and straightened himself - probably realising just how close he had come to cracking his head open on slick, iced marble.

"Maybe," Noctis echoed, and told himself sternly that the warmth moving through him was because of how Prompto had pressed up so close to him, and not at all because of how Prompto had linked their arms, or the complete and genuine trust that was being shown so simply for him.

Clearing his throat, Noctis looked down as they made their way up the stairs, thankful for the excuse that was both frosted steps and Prompto's clumsiness that allowed him to do so without looking rude or awkward. It was - it was just, Prompto made it so easy to just let everything _go_ when they were together. His walls, his guard, the mannerisms and lines that Noctis had always followed and conformed too - around Prompto they didn't matter; didn't even _exist_.

The downside to that, though, was the fact that it quite often led to Noctis forgetting _himself_ , as well as some other lines that normally wouldn't (and _shouldn't_ ) be crossed - like the urge to just _yank_ Prompto to him and _kiss_ him. He didn't, though, because for all his physical affection and laughing flirtations (which he did for _everyone_ , besides), Prompto had never, even _once_ , shown Noctis any especially preferential treatment that he didn't also afford to other people, at least in _some_ way. He didn't want to overstep, not when he knew - Prompto could be flighty, and was anxious, but most of all was _generous_ , almost to the point of self-sacrifice.

He was honestly worried that if he made a move, Prompto wouldn't say no, even if he wanted to - instead just giving Noctis what he _thought_ would make his best friend happy even if in the end it made him miserable - and he feared that if that happened, he wouldn't be able to read or see Prompto's suffering, because his friend liked to wear a mask, and he'd become so practiced at it that, these days, even _Noctis_ had difficulties telling the difference between what Prompto _really_ felt, and what he was simply projecting; what he _wanted_ the world around him to see.

Soft, golden light grew brighter than it had been before, and Noctis forcefully shook his head clean of gloomy thoughts as he glanced up to see they had reached the entrance; glass lanterns hanging from vines on pillars burnishing the low cloud of the morning with warmth.

Next to him, Prompto leant forward and craned his head around to look questioningly at Noctis, who had paused in place as he stared.

"Ah - sorry," Noctis said in answer to Prompto's unasked question, as he blinked his eyes free of a blur that was most definitely _not_ tears. "I'm just...usually dad is here with me," he explained. "It feels...weird that he isn't today."

As if to comfort him, Prompto unwound their arms and reached down to take Noctis' hand. He'd been cursing the fact that they had been stupid enough to forget _gloves_ , of all things, ever since they'd woken up earlier that morning, but as Prompto's fingers intertwined with his, locking their hands together in a gesture of solidarity and warmth, Noctis couldn't help but be grateful for his lack of foresight, and cheered internally.

"I'm here with you, Noct," Prompto said. "I - I know it's not the same, not really, but - you're not alone."

Noctis simply stared at his friend for a moment, caught between shock and warm, heartfelt pleasure - and then he smiled, gently; not just with the curve of his mouth but the flash of his teeth, the lights reflected in his eyes and the frost that bit his skin pink. "No," he agreed. "I don't think I ever really have been."

|[-O-]|

The temple may not have been the most crowded place Prompto had ever been in, but in the moment it sure felt like it - people boxing him in on all sides and their whispers hissing their way into his head; he could only be grateful that the pills he'd taken that morning before Noctis had woken up as well as the onset of the Cosmolatry season were keeping his little chorus of screamers down and _quiet_ , because if he'd had to deal with so much noise coming at him at once, both internally and externally - well. He probably would have been on the floor right now, curled up into a ball with his head in his hands, crying out in overstimulated agony.

He was painfully, shamefully thankful for the physical anchor to reality that was Noct's hand locked in his, and it was _hard_ not to grip it all that more tightly in a search for reassurance.

That grip relaxed more than just the tension brought on by the noise of the crowd, though - not wanting to leave them behind in the room where they could be discovered (he didn't _trust_ Ravus) Prompto had swallowed his apprehension at the idea of the blasphemy he was about to commit, and apologized to the Six and Lady Eos about a thousand times over in his mind - weapons, after all, were not meant to be taken onto holy land, but Cor's warnings and the kings worries had been enough to have Prompto's paranoia running through to overdrive; only Noct's hand in his kept him from twitching and reaching for the concealed pistols every time someone's gaze rested on him for just a second too long, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

As if reading his thoughts just as his resolve began to waver and he considered clutching Noct's arm to him tighter, closer - Noctis squeezed his fingers, and Prompto jerked, gasping, out of his own spiraling thoughts and back into the present, where his best friend was staring at him with worry and concern blatant in his eyes as they stood just inside the wide open hall of the main entrance to the first temple cloister, the crowds that poured in maneuvering deftly around them.

"Prompto, are you okay?" Noctis asked, and leant in close, to peer up at his face. "You look...pinched."

Automatically, Prompto reached up with his free hand to touch at his face where Noctis was staring - he felt the tension built up in his jaw, and made a conscious effort to unclench the teeth he hadn't even realised he was gritting and _relax_.

"I'm just...not used to being around this many people, all at once," Prompto explained falteringly, spinning and dedicating himself to the lie even as he realised - it actually _was_ the truth. Even Insomnia, a city of narrow streets with a population _overflowing_ with refugees; always so crowded and swarming, like ants...it was never this obvious, this _upfront_ about it, mostly because of the fact that, in Insomnia, people knew how to keep their heads down and go about their own business quietly; Prompto able to shield himself even further by pasting on a bright, disarming smile and hiding away _behind_ the lens of a camera.

Here, though - with people of all classes and all nationalities scattered about in one writhing mass of sound, colour and heat (Prompto even thought he'd spotted a few of the brightly coloured and embroidered silks that the nomads that had made their home in the desert ruins of Solheim were known for, and except for trading, _they_ were known to pretty much _never_ interact with outsiders), there were no shields, especially given the fact that it was Cosmolatry, meaning everyone was feeling particularly kind towards strangers, well wishes and happy holidays being exchanged as if between old friends reunited.

Noctis frowned. "The main public chamber is a bit larger," he said. "And during the service everyone will be seated and silent."

Prompto simply nodded jerkily, hearing the unspoken question humming beneath the spoken words. "It'll be fine," he asserted. "Let's just - get inside, before all of the good seats are gone."

Noctis laughed, and, their hands still entwined, tugged him deeper into the temple. "Come on, then," he said. "We need to sit together, and somewhere with a good view of Luna."

Prompto whistled, low and teasing, and grinned as Noct looked away, pink high on his cheekbones.

"Shut up," his friend hissed out succinctly, and a brief lull in the crowd as it parted before them moved them right up to the arching pillars that curved and tapered up to the ceiling; the final doorway of the antechamber that led to the area of the temple meant for public use.

Prompto gaped as they entered together, hand going limp and falling away from Noct's - the inner sanctum was more well-lit than the stairs and entranceway had been, but still just by flames; hundreds of candles burning low and gold, the embers of coals glowing orange in brass dishes scattered up the stairs that led to the altar, on which was positioned a brazier burning with white-hot flames that danced wild and bright, sparking like lightning and curving upwards towards the ceiling.

Lady Lunafreya stood just beside the altar, smiling out at the people pouring into the pews placed in neat rows just before the altar - no one approached her, though; no one dared to, given the fact that the flames burning blue-white behind her wreathed her in an ethereal glow the colour of ice.

On that altar, Prompto knew, inside that brazier - was the most holy, most sacred object in existence: a dawn shard, and apparently the only one left in the world; sign of Lady Eos' favour and protection over humanity. As long as the flames of Her shard burned, dawn would always come to the world; a promise that the goddess had made eons ago when She had handed the shards over to the care of humanity.

Once, there had been many shards - at least, according to legend - but Ifrit had snuffed them all out one by one, in an attempt to do away with Eos' favoured children once and for all.

The shard, resting on the altar and burning like a supernova, was a rare sight for those who _weren't_ the oracle. It was brought out into the public eye for common view only once a year; for the duration of Cosmolatry and all while under heavy guard. The rest of the time, it was kept hidden - somewhere only the oracle knew.

A nudge at his side, and Prompto glanced down at his arm to see Noctis tugging at the sleeve of his borrowed jacket. "Up here," he said, and shoved Prompto into one of the pews in the front row, sitting pretty much directly in front of the altar - and in front of Lady Lunafreya, whom Noct _still_ hadn't looked away from since they'd entered the temple proper; awe lighting up his face as he stared at her - and she stared _back_ , the smile on her face growing a little wider, a little softer, more _genuine_ , as she subtly waved her fingers in their direction.

Clearly, Lady Lunafreya was waiting to receive some kind of signal that no more people were going to pour into the temple - and, though the noise levels _inside_ the temple were generally lower than they had been outside, people taking the courtesy to hush their voices when in the _technical_ presence of the gods - it still wasn't completely _silent_ , meaning that Prompto felt safe in turning to Noctis and whispering, "Are you going to go for a blessing?"

Noctis tore his eyes from Lady Lunafreya to send a questioning look Prompto's way. "Huh?" He said.

Prompto smiled slightly at the abject confusion in his friend’s voice and face. "A blessing," he repeated. "Once Lady Lunafreya starts, will you go up to the altar for one?"

Noct hesitated - but then shook his head. "No," he said. "Luna's only got so much time available, after all, and there are people who need the god's blessings way more than I do." His tone of voice was gloomy as he continued, "And besides - I've already got enough people watching over me without bringing the divine into it."

Prompto laughed. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he allowed.

"And what about you?" Noctis asked. "You going to petition Lady Eos for a prosperous new year?"

"No, no - I, uh, no," Prompto said. "I mean, I'd have to go up there, in front of everyone, and - no. Just, no." He'd be lying if he said the idea of taking advantage of the opportunity to be given a blessing - not from the oracle or one of the Six but from Lady Eos Herself - wasn't tempting; it wasn't like he'd ever get the chance _again_ , after all, and the fact that he'd even managed to be allowed into Tenebrae at _all_ was, quite frankly, nothing short of a miracle...but at the same time, he was _scared_. Not just of standing in front of so many people - but because of the bare fact of who and _what_ he was; what if the dawn shard - if Eos - rejected him, like She had once turned Her back on Ifrit? After all, the same affliction that had sent the Infernian spiraling into madness was the one that Prompto carried within himself, always, in the form of his little chorus of screamers.

Noct's entire face, bathed in candlelight as he smiled gently, was amused as he shook his head at Prompto. "Today is your only chance until next year, you know," he said. "After the service, no one will be getting access to the temple or the dawn shard except Luna; it'll be locked and guarded until the rites at midnight."

Prompto nodded. "I know," he said. "And I'm sure - I'm good just sitting here and watching the service with you."

Noctis blinked, taken aback - and then smiled brilliantly; something in Prompto's chest curled tightly, warmth breaking through him and his own smile widening to the point where it hurt.

"Thank you," Noct said. "Not just for being here, but for - well, being here?" He laughed, and ran a hand through his hair, still a mess from waking up early that morning. "If _that_ makes any sense."

"It does," Prompto reassured him. "Of course it does."

-x-

Eventually, the room filled up, to the point that there were even people sitting on the floor; Noctis and Prompto pushed together close enough that they were almost in one another's laps, boxed in by others that had seated themselves along their pew.

At this point, the sun had risen high enough above the horizon line that the candles scattered about were all but redundant, and even though Prompto could feel the chill in the air biting at the bare skin of his face, underneath the heavy knit of his borrowed coat he was sweating, and half tempted to just _strip_ down to his t-shirt. There were just so many people packed into the temple that body heat was as if a contagious disease; Noctis, pressed into his back and radiating heat that he would have been thankful for not even ten minutes earlier, was _definitely_ not helping things.

He couldn’t (and didn’t) complain, though – because the signal Lady Lunafreya had to have been watching for finally arrived, and the Lady herself moved, so that rather than standing to the side of the altar she was positioned in front of it; the flames of the dawn shard silhouetting her like a nebula.

As one, the entire room fell silent, and at his back, Prompto felt Noctis suck in a breath. He reached back without looking to poke Noctis’ stomach – _you okay?_ He tried to communicate with his brief touch.

An aborted sort of jump behind him; Noct twitching in surprise (or…was he _ticklish?_ ) when he got poked – and then, more movement, as one of Noct’s own hands was pressed flat to the dip between his shoulder blades.

_Nothing to worry about_ , that touch said – but Prompto was a little bit busy freaking out over the fact that if Noctis let his hand travel any lower, he would _definitely_ feel the distinct shapes of the pistols strapped and holstered just under his clothes, to really register Noct’s message.

_Please don’t feel the guns, please don’t feel the guns._ Prompto bit his lip and tried not to tense up – that would absolutely make Noct _worried_ if not exactly _suspicious_ – and, thankfully, Noct’s hand fell away from his back, as Lady Lunafreya opened her mouth and _sang_.

Sang…wasn’t really the right word, but Prompto couldn’t think of any others – not when he was staring, open mouthed, as the oracle’s hymn echoed throughout the otherwise completely silent temple.

The words – if they could really even be called _words_ – weren’t in any language Prompto recognised; none of the modern dialects scattered around Eos and the Outer Continents or any of the ancient ones they still liked to keep alive in _some_ way in Niflheim and Insomnia both, as well as those that delved into the mysteries of the fallen empire of Solheim.

They were beautiful, though – haunting and chiming and reaching right down to the core of Prompto’s soul; translating an image, a story into his mind even if he couldn’t tell what they sounds themselves meant – even if he couldn’t know whether or not what he was imagining was real and true or not.

A girl who wove flowers and left wreaths as offering to the gods; a song she sang as she worked in the fields surrounding Tenebrae. She had been of the blood of oracles if not an oracle herself, and had been favoured by the patron of her blood and people, Shiva. When she had died, Shiva had mourned her greatly, and so Titan, knowing the girl’s favourite flower, called on the aid of Ramuh’s winds to carry seeds of those blossoms to the hills surrounding Tenebrae and on Leviathan’s water to keep them fresh; so long as they bloomed from His earth they would remain hale, even in the midst of Shiva’s glacial winter – the reason that sylleblossoms had ceased to grow anywhere but the lands of Tenebrae and a few of the lands bordering the kingdom; the blessing of the Six only reached them here, for the sake of the young girl who had sung for the gods when she gave them flowers.

The last note of the hymn hovered in the air like the chime of breaking crystal, and only Lady Lunafreya’s panting breaths broke the complete and utter silence that echoed throughout the air. “Welcome,” Lady Lunafreya said, catching her breath and smiling a smile that – somehow – encompassed the whole room, as if she was addressing each person individually, personally. “The dawn approaches, and with it, Cosmolatry. Our Lady Eos watches over Her children this morning, and Her shard burns with her blessing and love for us. Today, an opportunity to receive Her blessing is available to all of you; Her children gathered here in Her temple.”

She raised a hand, and gestured to the sides of the chamber – along the walls, dressed in draping white clothes and faces veiled, were women that Prompto hadn’t noticed before – gold brocade in the shape of an elaborate rising sun pressed into their shoulders; acolytes.

Silently, the acolytes walked – glided, really, considering how gracefully they were moving, like beneath their robes that dragged soundlessly across the floor they were wearing heelies – in the paths formed between the rows of pews, gently leading people from their seats up to the altar one by one, seemingly at random.

There _were_ a few people that refused (politely) to head up – you weren’t _forced_ to take a blessing, after all, and there were always a few who turned down the opportunity every year; when one of the acolytes came up to him and offered him a hand, he shook his head in refusal.

“No, thank you,” he smiled, and the acolyte – her face and eyes covered with white bindings – drifted further down to row, to lean down to a woman older than both Prompto and Noctis by a few years, who gratefully accepted the hand that was held out.

The temple was no longer silent – filled with movement and relieved, joyful sobs as people moved up to their altar and receive their blessings from Lady Lunafreya, who was smiling as she prayed over the dawn shard for everyone brought before her – and so Prompto felt safe in turning to Noctis (after slipping away from him a bit; room freed up on the pew as people left to be led to the altar) and saying, “this is crazy.”

Noctis hummed in agreement, and nodded. “It’s like this pretty much every year,” he said. “People get weird about Eos.”

Prompto shot Noctis a sideways look askance, but didn’t comment on the plain irreverence his friend was showing to the Lady Eos. He was Lucian, after all, and they _had_ their own Lady – and Prompto was meant to feel the same way, too, given that even before he’d been moved into Insomnia proper his papers listed him as a Lucian refugee. Part of the reason he’d been able to fake it so well, he thought, was that Lucis _respected_ Lady Eos, even if they didn’t see Her as the true High Goddess that she was.

“People get weird about Etro, too,” he said instead, and Noctis smiled faintly.

“People get weird about _religion_ ,” he laughed, and Prompto laughed with him.

“Don’t let Lady Lunafreya hear you say that,” he teased. “She might get offended of the opinion you hold of her line of work.”

Noctis shook his head. “Nah, Luna would totally agree.” He glanced around the room, stretching in the pew as he did so. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

Prompto raised one eyebrow. “I thought you said we can’t leave until after the service?” He accused.

“We can’t,” Noctis said plainly. “But the service is technically over, you know?” He shrugged. “I mean, you’re supposed to sit through the blessings, too, but as long as we don’t leave temple grounds, we should be fine.” He hesitated. “And besides, there’s something I want to tell you, and I can’t do it after the service is actually over, because we won’t be able to get back into the temple.”

Prompto made a show of actually considering it – but, in the end, weighing sitting still in a pew for several hours against following Noctis wherever it is he wanted to go – well, it was no competition. He was on his feet in seconds, ready to be led away. “Go on, then,” he said. “Amaze me, Your Highness.”

Even though they were probably meant to be quiet, still, out of respect for the blessings taking place above them, Noctis barked out a laugh, before glancing around guiltily as if to make sure that no one had heard him. “Of course, Prompto,” he said, and began to weave his way through crowd and pews. “Nothing but the best for you.”

|[-O-]|

Noctis could feel Luna’s eye tracking him and Prompto as they left the first chamber, but she didn’t speak out – of course she didn’t – and no acolytes stepped in their way to stop them, so he simply continued on his path; he’d promised Luna he’d hang around the temple to talk to her afterwards, anyway.

“So…where are we going?” Prompto said, as they entered the empty hall that led to all the separate cloisters and chambers of the temple, his voice echoing off of the marble and glass that made up the temple as Noctis led him to one of the smaller halls that broke off from the back of the entrance hall.

“Just here,” he said, and as they came to a stop, Prompto’s gaze was flicking about the relatively dark hall – kept that way to preserve the art of the murals painted and carved down the walls of the hall itself.

Prompto quirked a brow at him. “…Okay?” He said, and his gaze followed Noctis’ own to the murals. “What, these?”

“Yeah,” Noctis said softly. “These.” He tilted his head at Prompto. “Do you know what you’re looking at?” He asked, and Prompto shrugged helplessly.

“Some of these look familiar?” He said, and squinted at the walls. “Like, scenes from the Cosmogony, or something?”

“There are some from the Cosmosis, too,” Noctis agreed. “But – those are not that important, I guess?” He shrugged. “Cosmosis is old enough that it’s generally considered ‘non-canon,’ but – those aren’t the ones I’m talking about.” He reached out to take Prompto’s hand, and tugged his friend further down the hall – where a painted carving depicting the crystal and a figure that Luna had always called ‘the King of Light’ was shown.

Prompto’s nose crinkled up adorably as he tilted his head and observed the picture. “Is that…the crystal?” He didn’t sound entirely sure, which Noctis didn’t blame him for – resting on top of the palace or no, the crystal was well hidden away from public sight; even Noctis himself had rarely ever seen the crystal for any prolonged amount of time.

“It is,” Noctis said simply. “This picture – and the others that follow after it,” he said, and gestured to the rest of the hall beyond them. “They aren’t like the others, so much as they are…prophecies.” There was hesitation in his voice as he said this – after all, he’d never talked about this to anyone that didn’t _already_ _know_ about the connection between Noctis and the crystal and the destiny it had forced upon him.

Prompto blinked, and looked at him sideways. “Prophecies?” He asked, and Noctis nodded, before opening his mouth – still not sure how to say exactly what he was trying to say; _the King in this mural is meant to be me_.

“Prince Caelum.”

Noctis jumped, and Prompto yelped, and in unison they both whirled to see Gentiana standing at the entrance to the hall, a serene smile on her face and a warning in her eyes, open for once – a warning meant for Noctis alone.

He frowned, and Gentiana’s smile widened, seeing that he had – clearly – heard and understood her message; her eyes closed once more.

“Little princes shouldn’t go wandering,” she said, and though her voice was all but monotone, Noctis thought he could hear a tone of chiding in it. “Wander too far, and you may get lost.”

Next to Noctis, Prompto snorted, and Noctis automatically reached out to shove his friend.

“Are you going to make us go back to the chamber?” He asked sourly, knowing that Gentiana was not going to leave him alone with Prompto – for whatever reason, apparently the acolytes of Eos’ Order did not want news of their King of Light being made public.

“You should return to Lunafreya’s side,” Gentiana agreed. “The blessings are nearly done, and she wishes to speak with you before she must lock the temple away for the sake of the shard’s safety.” Once more, her eyes opened, unearthly green gaze locking this time onto Prompto. “You, however…I would speak with.”

Prompto blinked – “Eh?” He said – and Noctis tensed. Gentiana, after all, was a Messenger – of the gods, and especially Shiva; she cared for and paid attention to Luna and the Caelum line because they were precious to the gods – but for what reason would she have to wish to speak with Prompto?

“Why?” Noctis said, before Prompto could answer either way – as if annoyed at being ignored or spoken over, his friend frowned at him.

Gentiana’s face was impassive. “The oracle calls for the prince,” she said, and moved towards them, down the hall – brushed past Noctis before he could even make a move to grab at her, and placed a hand on Prompto’s arm.

Prompto jumped away – “Cold,” he said, and shuddered, reaching up to rub at the area of his arm Gentiana had touched – cold, even through _that_ coat?

“Follow me,” Gentiana said, and held her hand out – Prompto sent Noctis a helpless look, but something that Noctis knew about his best friend was that he respected the Order and Eos a lot more than most Lucians did; he didn’t know that Gentiana was a Messenger (thankfully – if he _had_ , he would have been a _lot_ more eager to follow after her, probably) but he _did_ know that she was high up enough in the Order to stand at the oracle’s side, so he clearly didn’t just want to say _no_ – even if the tension in the air seemed to be putting him on edge.

“It’s fine,” Noctis said, even if the words tasted like dust in his mouth. He had no idea what it was that Gentiana wanted from Prompto, exactly – or if it was even _Gentiana_ that wanted it; it could be Luna, trying to distract Prompto so she could talk to Noctis alone – but he _knew_ that she wouldn’t hurt him, so he _would_ be fine…even if it was hard to admit, when Prompto looked pale and thin in the lowlight of the hall.

Slowly, Prompto nodded. “…Okay,” he said. _I trust you_.

Noctis swallowed. “I’ll go, then,” he said, and Gentiana smiled.

“To her,” she said, and Noctis nodded.

“To Luna,” he agreed.

And then - he turned his back, even though it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, and walked back the way he had come - forcing himself not to hear the sound of footsteps behind him growing ever fainter as Gentiana led Prompto deeper into the temple.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty sure this is the shortest chapter so far? oh well, it was like fourteen pages long, so enjoy, ya nerds
> 
> i'd say i'm sorry for the cliffhanger...but i'm not :)
> 
> if you like my ffxv writings then seriously check out my profile I've posted a bunch of shit since the last time I updated this fic and it's all _good_ shit I swear.
> 
> as always ask your questions in the comments or hmu on tumblr. some scenes I implied would be in this chapter in snippets I posted on tumblr have been postponed until next time because of where I cut the chapter. depending on how well the next one pans out you might be getting six chapters. dunno yet.
> 
> also! also also! We broke!!! 100 comments!?!

Noctis wasn’t angry at Luna. Slightly annoyed, sure – just adding on to the stress he felt for leaving Prompto – but not mad. He couldn’t be mad at Luna. No one could. It was, like, a fact of life, or the universe: Lunafreya Nox Fleuret was a perfect human being too good for the mortal realm, and they were all lucky to have her.

But just because he didn’t feel angry didn’t mean he couldn’t play the part – Luna deserved _some_ comeuppance, after all, and even if she would likely see through him in a matter of seconds, the scowl he’d affixed to his face and the dark aura surrounding him was super effective at warding off any of the stragglers leaving the temple upon the cessation of the blessings who thought that they might take their chances and greet the Prince Caelum.

The main chamber was all but empty when Noctis silently slipped back in; most of the candles burned down to pools of wax and the coals dead and cold in their dishes.

Luna still stood by the altar, one hand resting on the dawn shard and her expression a million miles away as the acolytes – the only people left in the chamber besides the two of them – worked around her to clean up the candles and dishes that rested along the floor.

She wasn’t as out of it as she had looked, though – she turned with a smile to face Noctis as he came up behind her, not even a remote flicker of _any_ sort of reaction showing on her face when she took in his ‘anger,’ so Noctis sighed, and returned the smile (if a little tensely).

“Luna,” he said. “Gentiana said you wanted to see me now?”

Her smile was slightly apologetic – “Yes,” she said. “And I’m sorry that she took you away from Prompto, but there are some things we really need to talk about that he can’t hear.”

Noctis scowled – for real, that time, and resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest defensively. “Like what?”

Luna raised her brows at him. “You were going to tell him about the prophecy,” she said carefully, gaze searching.

Noctis shrugged. “I didn’t realise it was against the law to do so,” he muttered, and Luna shook her head.

“It isn’t,” she reassured him. “Maybe not recommended to just go around telling _everyone_ …but it’s _your_ prophecy, Noctis. Your destiny. If you want to tell people, then it is entirely your prerogative to do so.” She hesitated. “Just…maybe, not yet?”

There was a faint strain of pleading in her voice, and Noctis frowned as her stared at her, forehead creasing as his eyebrows drew together. “Why?” He asked simply. “Luna, what’s going on?”

“The oracle can’t see the future.” Luna’s words were slightly bitter, a smile that wasn’t at all happy playing on her lips as she turned back to the altar and braced her arms against it, clearly tense as she turned her back once more to Noctis. “It’s a bit of a misleading title, don’t you think? All I can do, really, is talk with the gods…and unless they talk back, I never know whether they’re listening or not. If they care at all. In the end, there’s no need for me, except as a tool.” She sighed. “But that – that isn’t important. What I’m trying to say, Noctis, is that I can’t know one way or the other what the outcome of telling Prompto now _would_ be, but from my intuition, and what little knowledge the gods have given me…you should just leave it be, at least for a while. It’s…it’s just not the right time.”

Noctis stared at her. “Then when?” He asked, and there was a _definite_ whine to his voice that he did his best to ignore. Prompto was his best friend – had been for _years_ now, almost a full half decade. It wasn’t like he was actively _lying_ to him, but the fact of the matter was that since he’d been ‘chosen’ by the crystal back when he five years of age, the ‘prophecy’ had been a huge, heavy part of his life. Weighing down on him always, always hovering at just the edge of his mind. And, usually, this wasn’t a problem for him – after all, the people around him _knew_. His father knew. Cor knew. Clarus knew. Gladio knew, Ignis knew, _Luna_ knew. Amongst his most important people, those who had – for the most part – been by his side since forever, _knew_. When the weight of his so called ‘destiny’ just got too overwhelming for him to face, they were there for him, because they _knew_ what was weighing on his mind.

Prompto _didn’t_. And for the longest time, Noctis had _wanted_ to tell him. It was just… _hard_ , to explain. It didn’t really feel real, even though he’d known about it since the crystal had chosen him when he was five years old – and he thought that a large part of that self _almost_ -denial was just how _normal_ Prompto made him feel, how his mere presence just made everything, every worry and every responsibility, melt away.

Luna seemed to pick up on just what he was thinking, feeling, because she turned back to him, and reached out to grip his arm comfortingly. “Soon,” she promised. “I swear it – just not yet. The time isn’t right.”

Noctis sighed. “If you say so,” he said. He wanted to tell Prompto, sure – but more than that, he _trusted_ Luna, and trusted that she knew what she was talking about – so if she said _no_ , said _wait_ – then he would trust and listen to her, like he always had.

She smiled. “Well, that wasn’t actually what I wanted to talk about when I came up to you this morning,” she laughed, then sighed. “But I suppose we don’t really have much time available to us now,” she said. “It’ll take the rest of the day to prepare for the rites before the gala.”

Noctis shrugged. “Well, we can talk tonight at the gala?” he offered. “Like we used to when we were kids; we can find a hidden corner and talk for a while.”

She grinned at him. “Didn’t your father send you here alone so you could learn to politic without his help?” She teased, and Noctis laughed.

“How did you even find that out?”

“I’m the oracle,” she said, mock severity in her voice. “Now, do you think that maybe we should go and hunt down Gentiana and Prompto?” She asked. “Who _knows_ what kind of trouble they’re getting into right now?”

At first, Noctis kind of thought she was kidding – but then he _thought_ on it, and realised – this was Prompto, and he could get into some sort of disastrous kind of trouble in an empty, locked room – and he wasn’t really sure that Gentiana would pay enough attention to his friend to keep him from poking at something that he shouldn’t.

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “We really, _really_ should.”

|[-O-]|

The silence was kind of getting to him.

Don’t get him wrong – for all his loud personality, Prompto _loved_ the quiet. There was rarely anything he loved more than just sitting in a room somewhere – the same room as someone else, someone he cared for, like Noct or Iris – and doing his own thing, reading or playing a game, just being in their presence. It soothed him, reminded him that he wasn’t alone. That there were people who thought he mattered.

But something he _definitely_ didn’t like was that sort of silence when it was impressed between him and the sole company of a complete stranger – twisted into something awkward and tangible and _lingering_ ; something he couldn’t easily just break through with his words or laughter or antics, because he knew approximately _nothing_ about Gentiana – nothing, except that maybe she really needed to get some gloves or something, because her hands where they’d just brushed up against Prompto had been freezing cold – chilled enough that he swore he could still feel the aftershocks of the chill even now.

The woman had led him deeper into the temple after Noctis had wandered back the way they’d come from, but hadn’t really spoken much – just told him not to touch any of the murals or paintings when he’d moved too close to them for her tastes, apparently.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore – they’d been hovering in the same area for a while now, a few minutes spent just loitering about in a wider chamber that split four ways into paths that led even deeper into the sacred building, walls between and around the doors completely covered in imagery of scenes from the Cosmosis and Cosmogony that Prompto could only just barely recognise.

“So…” he began, and trailed off leadingly. “Do you think…we could, I don’t know, maybe head back? Like, now?”

She blinked at him. “Lunafreya is not yet done speaking to Noctis,” she said, and Prompto wasn’t even going to bother questioning how she knew that. “And I am not yet done with you.”

He squinted at her. “Done with me?” He asked. “You’ve just been standing there; you haven’t talked at all.”

“I was trying to see if I was wrong,” she said, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Unfortunately, I do not think I am.”

He blinked at her, and felt his head tilt. “What?” He asked, confused.

She stepped forward, each _click_ of her heels echoing out like chiming glass on the smooth marble of the floor, and only stopped once she stood close enough to Prompto that if he craned his head up a little, they would be bumping noses.

He swallowed, and resisted the urge to back _way_ up – the chorus inside him, usually quiet around this time of year and completely _silent_ since he’d entered the sacred ground of the temple, _hissed_ , a sibilant sound against the forefront of a silent snarl that echoed like a scream in the cavern of his mind, an image of teeth like needles bared in the direction of Gentiana –

He froze, as she had frozen, and realised that the snarl, the hiss, the _teeth_ – they weren’t just in his mind, a byproduct of the chorus of screamers that lurked within him – they were in reality, too, a low growl that sounded _nothing_ like something a human could produce; his teeth clenched together and lips curled back in a threat implicit as his eyes were locked on Gentiana’s throat.

Alarmed, shocked, and _scared_ – terrified – he paled, and automatically flinched back, stumbling over his own feet as he tore himself away from her; his gaze flicked up to meet hers and it was _cold_.

He swallowed. “Do you still need to talk to me?” he asked, and his voice was a whisper – panic and terror fighting for dominance within him.

She tilted her head. “No,” she finally said. “I think I have seen all that I need to.” She narrowed her eyes. “You should go to Lunafreya,” she advised. “ _Before_ she leaves the temple – get her to give you a blessing.”

Prompto paused. “No,” he blurted out, before he could stop himself. He didn’t know what Gentiana was thinking – what she thought of him or what she thought she _knew_ – but he wasn’t getting anywhere _near_ the dawn shard, or Lady Lunafreya when _she_ was near it, because he knew (or at least, was afraid of) what would happen if he did.

She raised one brow, and through his own mind clouding panic, Prompto noted that she seemed _way_ too calm about what had just happened. Maybe she was rationalizing it as some sort of panic attack in response to her invading his personal space if she knew he was a ‘refugee’ from outside of Insomnia – but even if that was the case, there was no way she could deny just how _weird_ it had been, and Prompto himself was so scared because _he knew better_ : if he hadn’t managed to pull back – pull out of the swarming chorus when he did – well. She might not have been _dead_ , since he’d been almost completely out of it and he doubted that any handmaiden to the oracle would be incapable of fighting or at the very least defending herself and thus her lady, but she definitely wouldn’t have been having a fun time, because his teeth would have been buried in her neck; his fingers digging their way into her middle to tear through cloth and skin and then the flesh and organs beneath.

Something about her in that moment had just screamed _threat_ to his senses. Something _still did_ – and not in the way the dawn shard had, with flickering light and a gentle warmth that he himself was afraid would simply turn him away – but in something far more animal; visceral, the chorus inside him scenting blood but not _prey_ , the darker voice that was something _far worse_ pushing him to _run_ – which was terrifying, when usually all it wanted to do was _fight_.

“The blessing will soothe you,” she coaxed, and Prompto swallowed once more, trying to pull himself out of his own thoughts – his own bone deep terror – as she looked at him. His hands were shaking, and he’d broken out in a cold sweat; his shirt was clinging to his back, soaked – he could feel it, and he shivered.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, and made to leave – he didn’t care if she was here to _warn him of the apocalypse_ , he was getting away from that woman _now_ , right there and then, before her presence pushed his screamers any closer to the edge and he was lost, forever.

She watched him leave silently, and made no move to stop him – but he could feel the disapproval and disappointment radiate from behind him as he exited.

He shuddered, and tried not to think on the conflicting emotions he felt at those sensations that came from her – a strangely deep and personal hurt that he’d disappointed her, and a laughing amusement from the presence, the voice, that she disapproved of him – like he’d somehow made it proud, and _boy_ , wasn’t that just something that _he’d never wanted_.

|[-O-]|

Noctis was laughing with Luna when he found Prompto again, just making his way back down the hall they’d seperated from each other in – and when he saw his friend, his laughter died in his throat.

“Prompto?” He pushed past Luna before he’d even realised what he’d done, and apologised to her briefly in his mind as he rushed forward to grip Prompto’s shoulders – _not the arms, he doesn’t like it when touches linger there, don’t hug him, he hates feeling trapped and crowded in, let_ him _be the one to establish affection_ –

Thankfully, he did, and Noctis would have breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt arms come up to wrap around him if it wasn’t for the fact of just how _tight_ those arms gripped him, how hard Prompto had pressed himself up against Noctis, like he was trying to fuse them together – Prompto loved hugs, but he wasn’t a lingering contact kind of guy, and even when the hug did last longer than a few seconds – maybe even going into cuddle territory – he was definitely the kind of guy to leave enough room for Eos, just in case the goddess decided She wanted a hug, too (and well, if She wanted one from Prompto – Noctis would never really be able to blame Her).

Right now, though – all those pre-established facts meant _nothing_ , apparently; had been completely thrown out the window.

A deep, burning anger sparked to life within him – and his gaze automatically flicked to the hall behind Prompto, where he’d come _running_ out from – no Gentiana. Of course not, of _course_ she wouldn’t show herself and just _explain_ what it was she had done or said to Prompto, to set him off, to make him tremble like this, his breath coming in panting little gasps that tugged at both Noct’s heartstrings and the embers of his temper.

He sent an annoyed look Luna’s way – _you_ said _he’d be fine with her_ – and the worried, apologetic glance she answered him with as she bit at her lip and looked down at Prompto, still curled up and holding tight to Noctis, face buried in his neck and hair covering everything else that could possibly be seen, told him that whatever Gentiana had done would not go unanswered for.

For now, that would have to do – as much as burning (or sharp, pointy) retribution sounded tempting, in the end Gentiana was a Messenger, and thus something far beyond Noctis’ ken to deal with. No, his skills – and, of course, his priorities – lay somewhere else; with the friend he held gripped tight in his arms.

“You want to take him back to your room?” Concern shone in both Luna’s and her voice, and it didn’t take long for Noctis to decide – almost immediately, he nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re okay if I leave you alone, right?”

She laughed, and shook her head at him – not a negation, but a gesture of somewhat bemused disbelief. “Of course,” she said. “What do you think will happen to me in this temple?”

Noctis simply answered her question with a shrug – there was no reason to point out Prompto’s state of being, trembling in his arms. Prompto and Luna were vastly different people, for all their similarities – and he seriously doubted that Gentiana would ever manage to trigger in Luna whatever she had in Prompto.

“I’ll see you at the gala,” he said – and then, struggling slightly under Prompto’s dead weight and bulk, the borrowed coat he wore making getting a grip difficult, and supporting his friend as best he could, Noctis ducked his head and stumbled out of the temple, urgently moving in the direction of their room.

-x-

“I’m sorry.” Prompto’s voice was faint as he lowered him onto his bed – quiet enough that it would have been almost impossible for Noctis to hear the words he spoke if his ear hadn’t been right by his friend’s mouth. “I shouldn’t have made you carry me here.”

Noctis pulled away and back from Prompto just so he could give him a _look_. “You were freaked,” he said bluntly. “I don’t know why, but I know you, and you weren’t faking it, so whatever was wrong…I think I can give having to lug you around a pass.”

Prompto cracked a grin at him – it was weak, and kind of wobbly, and his face was still alarmingly pale – but it was a _smile_ , and Noctis felt himself begin to breathe easier for the first time since Prompto had slammed into him and _clung_ there, something wound tight loosening its grip on his heart as he relaxed, slumping to sit on the bed beside Prompto.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “What did Gentiana do to you?”

Prompto blinked at him. “I’m fine,” he said, clearly a blatant lie. “And Gentiana didn’t do anything to me…I did _that_ to myself.”

Noctis frowned at him, and raised his brows. “Oh, really?” He asked. “ _How,_ exactly, did you do that?”

Prompto shrugged, the movement fluid and assured as he elevated himself to recline back on his elbows, colour flooding back into his face as _he_ began to relax.

Noctis felt the scowl form on his face and didn’t try to stop it. With – most of – his composure regained as Prompto seemingly calmed himself, his friend had replaced his mask and was fully practicing his ability to just… _fool_ everyone into thinking whatever he was projecting at any given moment was what he was really feeling. He said he was fine, and thus – like magic – _fine_ is what he was.

“Don’t lie to me,” Noctis said – his voice a plea rather than the anger filled _snap_ he was expecting. “ _Please_.”

Prompto paused, and the smile fell off of his face. He met Noctis’ eyes with his own unflinchingly, and there was a severity to his expression that settled into the air – the mood, atmosphere, was incredibly heavy. “I’m not,” he said seriously, bluntly. “Really, Noct – I’m as ‘fine’ as I ever am.” He smiled a little. “I had a sort of…panic attack,” he said. “But it’s not like I’m hurt, or anything – it was just…” he hesitated. “Something from my childhood.”

Noctis stared. Prompto was a refugee, he knew, and had come into Insomnia when he was around ten years old – but he never really talked about his life before they’d met. Like, ever. Even now, he very clearly did _not_ want to explain any further – and so, Noctis bit his lip, and didn’t pry. “Okay,” he said quietly. “If you’re _sure_ you’re okay.”

“I am,” Prompto reassured him. “ _Really_.”

Noctis squinted at him, but didn’t argue. “But if you don’t think you’re up to it, you don’t have to come to the gala, or the rites tonight,” he said. “You can just stay here, in this room, and like – I don’t know, play King’s Knight or something.”

Prompto laughed, and then shook his head, _no_. “I’m coming with you,” he said. “No way am I letting you go in there alone.”

Slightly less worried, Noctis grinned back at his friend. “What, you think a bunch of old timers and debutantes are going to eat me alive or something?”

“Iris could totally do it,” Prompto pointed out. “What makes you think the ladies outside of Insomnia would be any different?”

Noctis blinked. “Iris?” He said, tone questioning, and Prompto froze. “How…do you _know_ Iris?”

“ _Um_ ,” Prompto said, eyes wide – Noctis snorted.

“Don’t worry,” he laughed. “I don’t really care – though I _do_ want to hear this story, later – but I’d maybe keep it secret from Gladio until the two of you know each other better.”

“I – yeah,” Prompto laughed. “But, later? I could tell you now, if you really want – I don’t mind, and it’s not like it’s anything bad.”

But, tempted as he was, Noctis shook his head. “No,” he said. “We got up _way_ too early this morning, and we’re going to be up literally all night, and then pretty much all tomorrow, too. We should sleep now, as much as we can.” _And you just had a panic attack not even an hour ago; sleep would probably do you some good_ , he thought, but didn’t say.

Prompto nodded. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he said. “I won’t say no to sleep.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and began to tug off his borrowed coat – the movements of his hands were slightly clumsy and slow, and Noctis had to resist the urge to offer to help – if he started pulling off Prompto’s clothes who _knew_ what layer he would stop at. His brain had the remarkable ability to just go completely _stupid_ when Prompto entered into the equation; it wasn’t like it wasn’t a _valid_ fear.

To clear his head, he stood up – and decided, Prompto really _did_ have a good idea, in the taking off of the outer layers of clothes he’d worn to the temple – so he slid off his own coat and shoes, before slumping down onto his own bed.

“Sweet dreams, Noct,” Prompto murmured from across the room, voice slightly muffled from where his face was pressed into his pillow.

“Yeah,” Noctis said, sincerely. “You too, Prompto.”

|[-O-]|

When Prompto woke up, the sun was already setting – well on its way below the horizon line.

He jolted up, into a sitting position – his little chorus quiet for once, even though the darkness of night they so preferred was fast approaching, and the voice – so smug and amused earlier that day, after the incident with Gentiana that Prompto didn’t even want to _think_ on – was just as quiet as the rest of them, when normally its presence far outstripped anything the chorus could put out on him.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Noct’s voice came from the bathroom – the door was ajar with light shining through the open crack, Prompto saw, and then _stared_ as his friend exited the ensuite.

 _Holy shit_ , he thought.

“Holy shit,” he said, and Noctis blushed.

“It looks good, then?” He asked, and Prompto nodded mutely. He had literally _no_ words.

At its base, the outfit Noctis wore was identical to the one Prompto had been given, with just minor adjustments for their differing sizes – but then he looked closer, and saw – more than just the addition of gold rather than silver for accents and buttons and the emblem of Lucis pressed into the shoulders of Noct’s coat. He was what looked like silk-satin pressed to velvet and supple leather, the delicate lattice of lacework pressed into the cuffs of his sleeves and golden pinpricks like the single points of starbursts scattered, embroidered, on his trousers – which were a shade of navy that was nearly black, like the sky at midnight. He was dressed like he was named, and every line of the clothing accented some aspect of his physique – streamlining his body like he was cloaked and clothed in the pure dark emptiness of night; his hair loose and unstyled, for once, falling in loose and uneven layers around his face, the very longest strands of it reaching to brush just against his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he croaked out, and threw up a thumb. “You look _great_.”

Noctis smiled, shyly – and then, underneath the suave and sophisticated demeanour the clothes brought to Noctis, Prompto could see, quite clearly, the same dork there that he always had been.

Somehow, it just made him look all that much better. Internally, he cursed his friend’s good looks. He knew for a fact that he was _not_ going to look anything like that when he got changed.

Speaking of, “You should get changed, too,” Noctis said to him. “We’ll need to leave for the gala soon.” He looked up at Prompto from where he was fiddling with buttons pressed to his jacket. “You want the bathroom?”

“Uh – yes,” Prompto said, and jumped out of bed. “Totally, thanks.” Gently, he pushed past Noctis and gathered up in his arms the box that held his version of the outfit that Noctis was wearing, the one that had been tailored specifically for him.

Noctis smiled at him from over his shoulder – Prompto saw it just before he closed the bathroom door properly.

“That’s going to look amazing on you,” he said. “Make sure to wear the wristband with it.”

Prompto laughed. “Only if _you_ make sure to wear your collar,” he said, and nudged the door shut to the beautiful image of Noctis’ stunned face.

-x-

Ravus Nox Fleuret looked like a man who had seen too much – seen it all, in fact – and even though he apparently hated Lucis and Noctis in equal, burning measure (and was just a plain _dick_ besides), Prompto couldn’t help but commiserate with the guy. Yeah – he wasn’t exactly having the time of his life, either, following two steps behind Noct like a lost puppy; unable to bury himself in his drink as an excuse to get out of conversations since the king had explicitly said _‘only drink when Noctis does._ ’

Making him even _tenser_ , though, was the presence of the dual pistols Cor had snuck him weighing down against both the small of his back and his mind. He’d been too dazed to really think on it earlier, the hustle and urgency of getting from Insomnia to Tenebrae distracting him greatly – but, the guns. The slim design of them, the size meant to be capable of slipping up a loose sleeve or hiding against a palm, even the rounds Cor had packed him alongside the guns themselves –

They were human killing weapons, no doubt about it. Oh, sure, there were rounds amidst the ammo and gear made for things with far thicker skin than humans – but, ultimately, the guns Cor had given him had been made for one single purpose, the same one that Prompto himself had been; no amount of modification later in life was going to change or erase that dark truth.

Breaking himself forcefully out of his increasingly gloomy thoughts with a single sharp shake of his head, Prompto looked Noct’s way to see him looking…not _happy_ , per se, but definitely not _unhappy_ either, maybe just slightly tense? Nervous – as he conversed with and entertained the small crowd of what Prompto could only presume to be noble lords and ladies that had surrounded him.

Not wanting to butt in where his presence wasn’t desired, nor distract Noctis just in case whatever those people were saying to him was important – he’d been sent to ‘politic,’ after all – Prompto pulled his phone from the nearly invisible pocket sewn into his waistcoat as discreetly as possible, tapping his way one-handed to Sensa’s forums page, while holding his wineglass absentmindedly in the other.

There wasn’t much of import happening on the forums – even journalism was work, so short of the apocalypse no one would be reporting or posting anything worth gushing over during the Cosmolatry period, unless they were doing it for free – but the forums were very much still active; well wishes and holiday greetings and hopes for the coming new year flying across chats fast enough that Prompto’s eyes could barely register them on his screen, right alongside complaints of family and cooking disasters – he smiled. These people might have been strangers, their lives and stories unknown to him, but the spirit of Cosmolatry was in every post, and that filled Prompto with the childlike awe and wonderment that he had always linked to Cosmolatry that had been strangely absent so far that year; overtaken by stress.

A tap on his shoulder, and he jumped – turned, to see Lady Lunafreya smiling at him from over her wineglass, her eyes sparkling in the low light given off by the chandeliers as surely as the snowflake patterned scattering of crystal pieces that decorated her full skirt like a trail of kisses from a snowstorm.

Realising he was staring, Prompto answered her smile with one of his own. “You look beautiful, Lady Lunafreya,” he said. “Almost like Shiva has blessed you in preparation for the rite.”

Pink dusted Lady Lunafreya’s cheeks as she blinked at his words and looked down, muttering something that sounded like ‘ _well Gentiana_ did _help me get dressed…’_ but before Prompto could process that and question it any further, the Lady was laughing.

“Oh, you flatterer, you.” Her smile was coy, and Prompto wondered just how much of her own true personality the oracle had to hide every day – she was nothing like how she had seemed on T.V. and radio; while that kindness _was_ still there, was, in fact, the focal point of her entire person – there was a fire there, too, one that lived and _loved_ to spark a similar flame in others. “Care to walk with me?” She gestured a little ways away – to the set of open doors that led to the balcony off the side of the ballroom, and into the cold night air.

Honestly, Prompto _wanted_ to – Lunafreya had been nothing but fun since their introduction, and the idea of talking to her some more, in private – well, it was incredibly tempting, but King Regis’ words rung in his mind alongside Cor’s multiple warnings as he glanced, automatically and hesitantly, back in Noct’s direction – _‘do not leave Noctis’ side.’_

Lady Lunafreya’s gaze tracked his, and the brilliant diamond-fire edge to her eyes and her smile softened a little, becoming just a tiny bit less fierce. “It’s safe here,” she said to him, her voice a coaxing whisper. “And you’ll still be able to see him from the balcony, besides.”

He looked over at her, torn, and his indecisive hesitation must have shown on his face, because Lady Lunafreya lifted a single finger and subtly pointed it across the room, the gesture mostly hidden by the grip she held on the stem of her wineglass. “Gentiana is watching everything,” she said, and Prompto had to admit it – that _did_ make him feel better, at least a little. Lady Lunafreya’s – handmaiden? – was terrifying. “Ravus is watching everything, too,” she added cheerily, as if those words were meant to make Prompto feel any better.

She must have taken in his wide-eyed _what_ expression before he could wipe it from his face, because she giggled as he scowled.

“It’s just – I mean – your brother doesn’t like Noctis all that much, does he?” He said, as diplomatically as possible, well aware from the observations he’d made that afternoon that Lunafreya and Ravus were fairly close.

“He hates Noctis,” Lady Lunafreya said, agreeing easily enough but also far too cheerfully for Prompto’s tastes. “But he won’t let anyone disturb the sanctity of Cosmolatry.” A shadow flitted briefly across her face – but Prompto didn’t ask as the Lady shook her head clear; friendly and amicable so far or not, it wasn’t like they _knew_ each other.

“…If you’re sure,” Prompto said finally, but towards the end his voice trailed off, and he couldn’t help but stare anxiously in Noct’s direction.

Lady Lunafreya giggled, and made another gesture with her hands, this one more obvious than the last, and across the room Ravus rolled his eyes before pushing off the wall he had been leaning up against and stalking over to them.

“What?” He snapped out, if quietly, while Prompto stared.

In contrast to her brother, Lunafreya smiled brightly. “Could you please watch over Noctis for me?” She asked. “I need to talk to Prompto privately but he’s a little against the idea of leaving his prince alone.” For the love of Eos, she _actually_ pouted.

Something flashed at the back of Ravus’ eyes – a glint shining in them that had the hairs on the back of Prompto’s neck standing straight up and his hands twitching for his guns, but as soon as it had flickered into life that unholy glee died, and Ravus sighed. “Fine,” he said.

Prompto felt both of his eyebrows raise, but didn’t protest as Lady Lunafreya shot him a wink and wound his arm with hers, tugging the two of them together at the side. “Come on,” she said, and began to move across the floor in the direction of the balcony, deftly maneuvering them around dancing couples and chattering groups of people, all dressed in jewel bright fabrics adorned with gilt of silver and gold; glass beads and crystal pieces shining prismatic lights in imagery of the sparkling winter backdrop the world outside was becoming.

“Wow,” Prompto breathed as they stepped outside to greet Shiva’s first snowfall of the season. In Insomnia, the snow wouldn’t come until the following morning; the first _true_ day of Cosmolatry – but here, at the religious heart of Eos, the goddess blessed them early – granting the oracle her favour just before the rite that would take place at midnight.

Staring out at the white and moonlit landscape, Prompto’s hands ached – not from the cold, but from the desire to be holding his camera at the ready in his hands.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lady Lunafreya removed her arm from his, and walked forward to rest on the railing atop the balustrade. “I see this every year, but it’s never any less magical.” She sent him a smile over her shoulder, and patted the marble of the railing right next to where she stood. “Come on, we were going to talk, weren’t we?”

“Uh, yeah,” Prompto said, and moved forward to lean beside Lady Lunafreya. “But – and with all due respect, Lady Lunafreya – what could you possibly want to talk to _me_ about?”

Lady Lunafreya blinked at him. “Earlier today, mostly,” she said, and Prompto tensed. “Gentiana said she sensed something within you – ”

“Oh, and what would _she_ know,” Prompto interrupted her before he could stop himself, lips twisting into a snarl through no conscious decision of his own. Blind panic simply _overtook_ him at the thought of Lady Lunafreya having even an _inkling_ of an idea that something was _so terribly wrong_ with him.

“Lots,” Lady Lunafreya said airily. “You’d be surprised, what they teach acolytes in the temples.” She sobered. “But that’s not what I’m talking about,” she said, gently. “Prompto – why would you _not_ want to receive a blessing?”

Prompto hesitated. “I don’t think I deserve one,” he finally settled on as the words closest to the truth he thought Lady Lunafreya would accept, and just simply _prayed_ that she wouldn’t seek any further elaboration from him.

She frowned, but looked down at the snow and _not_ at him, and didn’t press him for the untruth she _must_ have heard ring out in his voice – something he was so incredibly grateful for that he couldn’t help but slump against the frozen railing with a sigh.

He wasn’t the only one sighing – next to him, Lady Lunafreya shook her head ruefully, a bittersweet sort of smile playing about her lips, before doing exactly that. “Noctis has a type, have you noticed?” She asked, turning her head to look at him as he stilled as he took in the meaning of her words. “I mean, _look_ at us.” She stared back down at the frozen nightscape. “We’re both liars, aren’t we?”

Mutely, Prompto shook his head – he wasn’t sure if he was trying to say no, or – well, he just _didn’t know_ – and Lady Lunafreya just laughed at him again, low and short. “Don’t worry, Prompto,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to lie to _me_.” She offered him a small smile. “I should go,” she said. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“The rites,” Prompto said, voice and frozen body unthawing slightly.

Lady Lunafreya nodded, and sent a glance back inside. “I should get you back to Noctis,” she said. “See? He’s looking for you?”

Prompto looked back – and yes, it did indeed seem that Noctis was looking around for _someone_ (though, given the somewhat desperate look on his face as he looked around wildly, he may have just been searching for some sort of escape route from the group of nobles crowding around him). “He could just as easily be looking for you,” Prompto pointed out, and Lady Lunafreya laughed.

“Either way,” she said, “we should probably get back inside, before he does something drastic.”

Agreeing that that _did_ in fact sound like something completely and utterly _Noctis_ , Prompto offered Lady Lunafreya his arm – and all of a sudden, it was like the tension that had come with their conversation was gone; or at least pushed away to a place where it wouldn’t matter – the value of being a good liar, quite often that was synonymous with _good actor_ , someone who could even play another liar – or even themselves.

|[-O-]|

Noctis watched from the corner of his eye as Luna and Prompto reentered the ballroom with no small amount of relief. Happy or not that two of his most important people seemed to be getting along, he was very much _not_ glad for the fact that their little bonding time meant he was left alone in a room full of vultures – young debutantes on their first year of the circuit, just stepping out into high society, and ambitious parents and guardians looking to test the waters with the single Lucian prince under the thinly veiled terms of an ‘alliance.’

He sighed. His father had just sent him here to _punish_ him, he was _sure_ of it.

Either way, it didn’t really matter – he was here now, and would carry himself with all the grace and dignity he held as one of the blood of Lucis – would carry himself in a way that would make his dad, and all of his ancestors, watching him from Eos’ Field, proud.

The clicking of Luna’s crystal heels matched to the surprisingly almost silent tread of Prompto’s boots came into his hearing just as their shadows fell over him, and he smiled – didn’t turn to face them, because a woman was talking to him and turning away now would be incredibly _rude_ – but he smiled, because them just _being_ there comforted him.

That was when something the woman had said finally filtered into his brain, and he paused. Stopped, and stared.

He wasn’t the only one – conversations at the gala were a complex web of innuendo and meanings wrapped within meanings that meant _other things_ – you never just _came out_ and said what you wanted to say. _That wasn’t how it was done_.

And yet she had. And now, everyone was silent, everyone was staring at him – wondering how he would respond – and he would _have_ to respond, and return that same bluntness and honesty she had shown him in kind; to do otherwise would be _rude_.

“Well?” She asked, blinking eyes that he suddenly _knew_ were nowhere near as innocent as they looked. “Did you hear me, Your Highness?”

“I did,” Noctis said, voice tight.

She nodded with a hum. “Then, please – you’re old enough now, so do you think you’ll be getting married anytime soon? The Caelum line is currently very small, after all. You’d think building up your numbers would be a top priority.” There was something snide in her voice as she said this last sentence, but Noctis didn’t rise to the bait – he’d long grown used to the derision outsiders offered about his father’s decision to not remarry or have any more children after his mother had died in childbirth.

No, more pressing than the insult she’d just offered to his father and king – was the unholy light that had suddenly lit up in the eyes of every girl of marrying age around him, and a few of the women that were even older than that, as they realised – she was _right_.

In a minute, they’d be swarming him.

He swallowed, and hoped Luna would play along with what he was about to do. She probably would, unless she was in a particularly vindictive mood for whatever reason – but if she did, it would cause her a _lot_ of trouble, especially given that Tenebrae was still under purview of Niflheim. Her status as oracle protected her from a lot – but not everything.

He simply winced, and briefly apologized to her mentally, promising that a severe amount of servitude would be coming her way to make up for this soon after Cosmolatry.

“I’m already in the midst of a contract being formed around marriage talks,” he said as blandly as he could, and sighed a little with relief internally as around him, girls slumped down in disappointment.

But the woman that had originally asked the question – she simply narrowed her eyes at him, and said, “with who?”

Wordlessly, Noctis pointed behind him – to where Luna and Prompto were standing. There had been rumours about him and Luna for years, mostly fueled by their antics at the Cosmolatry gala, and Lucis and Tenebrae had always had good relations. Most people would just draw the obvious conclusion and walk away, disappointed that the news was really nothing all that interesting, in the end.

But instead of the surly grumbles and _looks_ thrown Luna’s way that he had expected – or even the congratulatory messages he’d dreaded – the room, and every person around him, _froze_. Shock showed openly on everyone’s faces, and the woman whom had asked the question _actually dropped her champagne glass_.

It hit the floor in a crystalline shatter of golden bubbles and Noctis frowned, what could possibly have cause this reaction in the crowd –

“ _Oh_ ,” he said quietly, in realization, as he turned. _Oh,_ shit.

Where he’d pointed – where Luna had been – she wasn’t there anymore. No, she was by the wall at the side of the ballroom, watching the proceedings before her with wide eyes from beside her brother (who looked more amused than Noctis had ever seen him, the ass).

No, where his finger was pointing – where everyone was looking – was at Prompto, staring back at Noctis with wide eyes and a pale face, as his best friend just announced to the high society of the entirety of the civilized world that they were _going to get married_.

* * *

 

> _“_ Oh _,” Ardyn said, and twirled the stem of his wineglass in his hand, watching from his seat against the wall of the ballroom where the tables were set up each year – eyes fixed on the last of the Caelum line and a pale blonde waif that looked_ awfully _familiar. “How_ interesting _.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and _that's_ where the accidental marriage proposal tag comes in.
> 
> stay tuned for my next favourite tag, which will be updated with the next chapter:
> 
> #PrinceConsort


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D have fun ;)
> 
> also! pay special attention to when Prompto refers to Luna AS Luna, and when he uses Lady Lunafreya. It should reveal some things about his self esteem levels at any given time.
> 
> if you haven't read _Rumour Has It_ yet (the oneshot posted in this series) you should probably get on that because some things happen in this chapter that reference the oneshot. I don't want y'all to be confused.

Prompto had approximately _no_ idea of what was going on.

He’d simply been scrolling through the forums on Sensa – Luna had abandoned him by Noct’s side to go and hang with her brother a few minutes earlier, and no _way_ was he going to try and interject himself into the conversation Noct was having with the nobles surrounding him – so he’d figured it was just best for him to do his own thing; amuse himself by playing around on his phone until it came time to head to the temple for the rites.

He’d gotten absorbed pretty much completely in a discussion about which ending was the canonical one in King’s Knight XI – one that was getting more and more heated by the second – when he was alerted via an insistent itch on the back of his neck to the fact that the room had pretty much fallen silent (at least around him) – and, more to the point, that there were more eyes on him than he’d ever felt looking his way before.

Nervously, he looked up – to see the people of the room frozen and pale, the woman that had been talking to Noct standing amidst shards of glass and golden bubbles as she gaped, open mouthed, gaze flickering between Prompto and his best friend –

Prompto frowned, and sent a questioning look Noct’s way – to see that his friend was just as pale, just as _still_ , as the rest of the room – an expression screaming _oh crap_ fixed on his face.

He tilted his head to ask Noctis what, exactly, was wrong – never mind that that probably wasn’t a smart thing to do when the entire room was fixated on them, he was _worried_ – but at that moment, his phone buzzed in his hand; not just a single vibration, but _many_ , one after another – automatically, he glanced down at his phone’s screen as notification after notification poured in.

 

> At the **#CosmolatryGala** and this really just happened! **#PrinceNoctisEngaged?**
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@kiana_r @EosWorldwide** check out this  vid! **#yesthatreallyjusthappened**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Hey that blonde guy looks familiar? **@arisu737 @liealie @thequickening** I’m not crazy, right?
> 
> * * *
> 
>  No, he’s totally familiar. And if he’s with **@noctis_caelum** then there’s only one person he could be. **#rememberthis #theprinceandthepauper #justlikehighschoolalloveragain**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  holy shit you're right that has to be **@quicksilver** **#theprinceandthepauper #stillgoingstrong**
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@nirith @arisu737 @liealie @thequickening**? ??? not all of us went to whatever highschool you guys apparently did, what are you talking about? **#theprinceandthepauper? #confused**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Here, **@kiana_r** –  link to a post made a few years back by a girl the prince turned down because he was apparently dating his best friend, **@quicksilver** after that **#theprinceandthepauper** sort of became a thing and the tag is full of stories and pics people got over the years to try and prove one way or another if they were **#datingorno** I always thought they were just friends but shows what I know huh **@nirith @liealie @arisu737 #promptisisreal**
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@thequickening** promptis?
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@quicksilver** is Prompto Argentum
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Hey, isn’t that kind of invading his privacy by giving his name out?
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@quicksilver** has always been pretty big on Sensa, his profile is public anyway. Go ahead, click to it. **#itwasgoingtohappenanyway**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Holy shit. Holy shiiiiiiiit **@arisu @liealie @thequickening @kiana_r** CHECK OUT THE LAST PIC HE POSTED OH GOOD LADY
> 
> * * *
> 
>  !!!!! **#theprinceandthepauper #promptisisREALguys**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  is that…is he wearing **@noctis_caleum** clothes?
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Only royals and Household members can wear black in Insomnia **#fact** those are definitely the prince’s clothes.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  So the vid is REAL??????
> 
> * * *
> 
>  looks like!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Ohhhhhhhhhhh Lady, hold me
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@EosWorldwide** cmon guys I know its Cosmolatry but where are you? WHY AREN’T YOU ON THIS YET. **#ineedmoreinfo #theprinceandthepauper**
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **#theprinceandthepauper** FUCK but this tag is adorable. They’ve been dating for years? Good on them for getting engaged then.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Go **@noctis_caelum**! That was a gutsy move to announce it like that, dude! **#love #beautiful**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Hey **@quicksilver** you’re online! Confirm one way or another? **#ispromptisreal?**

* * *

 

For a minute, Prompto simply _stared_ at the screen, at a complete and total loss for words as he watched his inbox fill up to the point where it could no longer show him the exact number of messages within a matter of seconds, his feed below the notification bar moving at what he could only presume to be the speed of light – and then he looked up, and locked eyes with Noctis.

He was…well, he was stunned, and confused, and honestly not really sure of _anything_ that was going on – but he _did_ have the presence of mind to do exactly _one_ thing: he glared directly into Noctis’ eyes, and communicated _what the actual fucking hell have you done_ with as much force as he could.

If Noctis could have actually moved, he thought, he might have shrugged helplessly – because that was just the kind of person Noctis _was_. As it was, however, he was as frozen and silent as Prompto himself was, though his eyes begged forgiveness – or at least for a chance to _explain_.

Oh, Prompto was going to give him that chance he wanted – just as soon as he got somewhere private and he could _yell_ at the idiot for whatever it was he’d gotten them into – _engagement? Marriage?_ And that goddamn tag – he thought he’d left that far, _far_ behind him, all those years ago back in high school – like, he knew it still _existed_ , but after that one disastrous week it had never started _trending_ again.

He had a sinking feeling that that wasn’t the case, anymore – especially not when so many noble eyes were currently on him.

Noctis made a move – as if to step towards him, or reach out for him, and Prompto honestly wasn’t sure of how to react to that – but before he even had the opportunity a hand wrapped around his forearm, tight – nails digging in.

He blinked to awareness, and turned to see Luna standing at his side, her face pale. She smiled tightly at him, before turning her face to the still staring crowd, her smile becoming both more brilliant and less genuine.

“I’m going to have to borrow these two for a minute,” she said. “How about you all finish your drinks before heading to the temple? The rites will begin soon.”

As if her words were the trigger, the catalyst needed to unfreeze the room, mutters began to make their way through the crowd, hissing whispers that Prompto could hear like they were being spoken right into his ear – but, thankfully, there were just so many of them, all at once, that overall it was just a hiss of white noise breaking through the room; he couldn’t make out separate words and sentences. Probably, something he should be grateful for – if he could hear what was going through everyone’s minds, he wasn’t quite sure of how he would react.

“Noctis,” Luna hissed as everyone heeded her words and _finally_ turned away from them, something tense but not upset showing in the line of her jaw, the light of her eyes – an urgency in her tone that had Prompto wanting to pull his arm out of her grip and Noctis straightening where he stood. “Both of you, follow me.”

She led them through the ballroom with the same skill and deft grace she’d shown when dodging around the dancing couples earlier, when she’d taken Prompto out to the balcony to talk – though, that _was_ aided by the fact that, this time, people were openly staring, and moving silently out of their way, parting as they approached. Finally, they were out of the ballroom and down the hall, led out of the palace itself and pulled out into the garden, frosty white under the moon.

Prompto could see the temple glowing just a little ways away – but with a tug on his arm, he came to a stop as Luna slowed, then paused.

He turned, and then saw – Luna, shaking her head at Noctis, mouth wide open in disbelief. “ _Noctis_ ,” she said. “ _What_ in the name of the Hexatheon – ”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Noctis said, and he sounded miserable. “I was trying to point at _you_.”

Luna blinked, and an expression that was somehow surprisingly flattered and stark disbelief at the same time. “ _Why_ ,” she said.

Prompto thought maybe he should try speaking up at this point – since, after all, this _all involved him_ – but he couldn’t get his voice, his throat to work. He could only stand in mute silence as Luna and Noctis sniped back and forth at one another.

Noctis shrugged. “You know how those rumours about us start up every year,” he said. “I just thought that after everything, it would be taken as a typical drunk Cosmolatry statement. Especially after the rites; everyone always gets a bit crazy after that.”

Luna sighed, and clapped a hand to her forehead. “I guess,” she said, and Prompto _found_ his words.

“You _guess_?” He asked, disbelievingly.

Luna flicked a glance his way. “There’s nothing we can do about this now,” she said plainly. “Once you get back to Insomnia, then you can deal with the fallout…but here? _Now?_ There is literally _nothing_ we can do while you’re here in Tenebrae, not during Cosmolatry. We’re all just going to have to…deal with it.”

Noctis sent an apologetic look Prompto’s way, a pleading in his eyes – but Prompto avoided looking back at him, knowing that if he _did_ his anger would _fade_.

He didn’t _want_ it to fade – and at the back of his mind, his little chorus of screamers hissed their approval – while anything they jumped for was usually _nothing_ he wanted _anything_ to do with, he knew that he _wanted_ Noctis to suffer for a little while and stew in his own guilt – because for Noctis? In the end, this wasn’t going to mean _anything_. His future was set in stone, was safe and nothing could ruin it – but for Prompto, nothing was certain. In fact, once they got back to Insomnia (and given the way Sensa had been active in a way he had _never_ seen it before only a few minutes earlier, wasn’t _that_ just going to be _fun_ ) he’d probably be the one in the most quote unquote ‘trouble.’ Never mind that he hadn’t actually _done_ anything – Cor would be on him, the King would be after him, he’d be hounded by journalists for the rest of his life…he sighed, and very pointedly turned his back to Noctis without a word.

“Right,” he said, tone carefully neutral. “We’ll just have to deal with it later.”

Luna offered him a wan smile. “What I said earlier wasn’t a lie,” she said. “It’s nearly midnight; it really is time to start heading for the temple.” She raised an eyebrow at Prompto. “If you want to avoid getting caught up in the crowd, you can head up there with me now and hide out in the back – you’ll be sitting there anyway, after all; engagement or no, you’re not of noble stock, so you don’t get to be up at the front this time. Sorry.”

Prompto shrugged – he honestly didn’t care. In fact, some actually enforced space between him, Noctis, and the rest of Eos’ upper crust sounded _really nice_. “I’ll take you up on that offer, actually,” he said, and Luna nodded.

“Okay,” she said, and leant around Prompto to shoot Noctis a questioning look. “How about you? You coming, too?”

“Uh – no,” Noctis said, and his voice was small, quiet. “I’ll make my way there later, if you don’t mind.”

Luna’s stare was unblinking, but she eventually drew back and nodded once. “If you’re sure, then,” she said, and offered her arm to Prompto. “Come on,” she said. “Escort me.”

A smile – small but real – tugged at the corners of Prompto’s lips. Something about the Lady Lunafreya just made it hard to feel negative things around her for too long. “Of course, my lady,” he said, and linked his arm in hers.

|[-O-]|

It occurred to Noctis, somewhat belatedly, that he was – maybe just a _bit_ – of an idiot; staring into the distance as Prompto and Luna walked away from him, towards the temple, getting smaller and smaller as he watched.

 _Note to self,_ he thought sourly, _never just_ point _at things in answer,_ ever _again._

He _knew_ how Prompto _hated_ attention – he’d been honestly scared, all those years ago when those rumours had started, that he’d lose his best friend over them – that Prompto would decide that the Crown Prince just wasn’t worth the trouble and _leave him_. This was like that fear, all over again – except this time, it wasn’t because of an honest accident, it _was_ all Noctis’ fault, and the idea of Prompto leaving him was a very real, very terrifying possibility.

“All is not well in the world of the wed, then?” Noctis jumped, and turned to see a man dressed in what he could only classify as a carpet repurposed into a heavy coat leaning against one of the pillars lined up around the palace’s outer walls in place of a full terrace – the man smirked at him from over his champagne flute as he twirled the stem about in his hands. “Or, well, to-be-wed, I suppose.” His smirk deepened, and Noctis gritted his teeth – had to honestly resist the urge to just go up and _punch_ this guy, when his words were clearly a taunt – maybe the rest of the room (or at least the majority of it) had – _somehow_ – managed to buy into Noctis’ wordless stupidity and Prompto’s stunned silence – but this guy hadn’t, and his words were filled with a venomous, sarcastic twist that had his hackles rising.

“I don’t believe I know you,” he said flatly, and the man let out a low chuckle.

“Izunia,” he offered. “Ardyn Izunia.” His eyes locked with Noctis’ from over his glass as he took another slow sip of his drink. “Lovely evening,” he said. “Well, I suppose it would be best if I were to start making way for the temple now – I’m getting on in years, you know, so it’s best to take as much time as I can to get to the places I need to.”

Noctis felt his eyebrows raise as the guy – Izunia – pushed off from his pillar to stroll past him, in the same direction Luna and Prompto had headed off in, earlier. “If you want my advice,” he said, pausing briefly as he walked past Noctis –

“I don’t,” Noctis said bluntly.

– “Then you should really have a good, hard think about what it is you _really_ want before you just go ahead and do whatever it is you think is _right_.” His eyes were dark, his smile slightly unnerving as he locked his gaze with Noctis’, and Noctis could _not_ look away. “Once I started following that advice, my life became _all_ that much better, I can assure you.” He tipped his hat. “You should make a habit of listening to your elders, Prince Noctis.” As he walked away, he called over his shoulder – “Oh – and a blessed Cosmolatry to you!”

For a minute, Noctis just _stared_ after Izunia as he left – he had no idea who the man was, or from where he hailed, but there was no denying that he – that that _whole encounter_ – had been supremely weird.

However…maybe he’d had some good advice?

Noctis hated to think of it that way, but the bare facts of the matter where that the situation he had created was _not_ just going to go away – eventually, he would have to talk about it – both to his father and the House of Peers back at home, but also – and most importantly, as far as Noctis was concerned – Prompto. He’d spent years avoiding admitting the way he’d come to feel about his best friend – and while accidentally proposing marriage in front of essentially the entire world (given how he could only _guess_ at how Sensa had blown up after the whole incident) was definitely _not_ the best way to go about bringing the topic up – it was certainly an effective one.

That all counted, of course, on whether or not Prompto actually decided to forgive him his actions any time this century – and given the silent treatment he’d been giving Noctis earlier, that didn’t seem all that likely.

He sighed, and felt his shoulders slump – he’d messed up badly, yes, but part of him couldn’t help but feel that Prompto was maybe just _slightly_ being too cruel to him – it wasn’t like he’d _meant_ to do it, and he _was_ sorry –

Had he said that, though? Had he _said_ that he was sorry? He couldn’t really remember, but if he cast his mind back – no, he didn’t think he’d sent so much as a single _word_ Prompto’s way after he’d caused this disaster, too mortified, too _terrified_ to even look his way, really – everything he’d said since then had been to Luna, hadn’t it?

He clapped a hand to his forehead; which became a fist twisted into his hair. _He was an idiot_.

An idiot that had to get to the temple, and hopefully catch Prompto before people began pouring in en masse and Luna began the rites – he knew what he had to do now – he thought he did, at least.

He needed to just start with an apology, plain and simple – and then the truth. After the rites, since they were meant to leave pretty much straight away, first thing in the morning anyway – he would just pull Prompto aside, somewhere private, and tell him the honest, bare truth of _everything_.

He was sick of lying – not only to his best friend, but to himself.

-x-

“Luna!” Noctis called out to the oracle, and she looked over her shoulder at him from where she was crouched down beside the altar, adjusting the yet unlit candles around it into a pattern that didn’t look all that different from what it had been originally, in Noctis’ opinion. “Is Prompto around here somewhere?”

He was looking throughout the room, but he couldn’t see Prompto at all – and even though the only source of illumination in the entire chamber was the undulating waves of light coming off of the dawn shard, the room was wide open enough that he could see quite clearly that they were the only two people actually gathered inside the temple so far – which made a certain amount of sense, given that when the temple opened up for the rites, it would be royals and nobles, officials, that would be let in first, to be given the places of honour right in front of the oracle and the shard when Luna began the rites.

She smiled at him sadly, and shook her head. “He’s outside somewhere,” she said. “He has a lot in his mind, Noctis, and he doesn’t really want to talk to anyone, right now.” She gave him a pointed look, and Noctis looked down.

“I _know_ ,” he said quietly. “But, I need to…”

“Apologise?” Luna straightened, and raised an eyebrow at him when he looked up. “Give it until tomorrow,” she advised. “When the dawn comes, things that happened during the night never look as bad as they did when in the darkness. Once he’s had a night to think about…all of this, he’ll be more open to talking to you, I think.”

Even though there was really nothing amusing about the situation – and he wasn’t actually _happy_ about anything – Noctis felt a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Luna,” he said – softly, genuinely. “When did you get so smart?”

Luna laughed. “I believe the term you’re looking for is _wise_ ,” she said primly. “I’ve _always_ been smart.”

Noctis shook his head at her. “Should I leave?” he asked quietly. “I mean, the rites are soon, right?”

Luna hummed out a negative as she turned back to the altar, and reached out to tug the dawn shard closer to the centre of the raised podium. “The doors will be opened soon,” she pointed out. “You may as well just take your seat.”

Noctis nodded, and slid into one of the pews in the first row – one positioned right by the altar. Luna smiled down at him from where she stood above him on the stairs. Then, she looked up, past and beyond Noctis, and called out: “Gentiana! Start letting them in!”

Noctis turned in his seat, but couldn’t see Gentiana anywhere along the wall where Luna had been looking – he chalked it up to some sort of bizarre oracle, Messenger…thing – and considering the doors opened smoothly pretty much right after Luna’s words had finished echoing throughout the room, he figured he was right.

The room filled with low murmurs as people began to pour in, one after another – and in a direct and strange contrast to the morning’s service (just like it was every year), what had been beanies and scarves and marshmallow poofy jackets were now jewel bright skirts of silk and velvet and tulle and stain; shimmering thread and crystal and jewellery sparkling like stars underneath the light of the dawn shard – the colours hidden underneath the darker shades of tuxedo and suit jackets that the women had been handed by their dates, probably on the walk to the temple – Noctis highly doubted that the ball gowns the girls wore would be all that great at keeping them warm in the chill that had infected the night air.

As the room filled up and then settled into silence – Noctis could feel a few gazes linger on him, but for the most part the mood was the same as it had been that morning; quiet and sombre, respectful, devout – the people gathered here were more concerned with the gods and goddesses watching over them at that moment then they were with the Crown Prince of Lucis – even if said prince had just gotten very publicly ‘engaged.’

Noctis had to fight the urge to hit himself again – thankfully, it was at that moment that Luna spoke up, and her voice echoed throughout the chamber, a dominating call to silence that no one could disobey.

“Welcome,” she said, and her voice rang out, filled with power – command. In that moment, as he did every year – as he sometimes forgot, when he simply saw Luna as his friend, kind and quiet and unassuming – Noctis understood just _why_ it was that the oracle could speak to the gods – and how, on some very rare occasions, could command _Them_ , too. “A blessed evening to you all.”

A swift, echoing murmur moved throughout the room as everyone repeated the greeting back to the oracle, her blessing unto them gifted back to herself – the light of the dawn shard wavered, growing briefly brighter as the mood of the people in the room did the same – everyone growing more relaxed, less serious as Luna smiled.

“This past year,” Luna said, “we have all experienced loss, love; grief, and happiness. We stand here, together, in honour of the divine that watch over us; of our Lady Eos and the Six that act as guardians to this world – but also to honour _ourselves_. The period of Cosmolatry is a time of reflection and gratitude, a time in which thankfulness if offered to Eos and Her favoured children – the Six, of course, but also the humans that populate Her world. Tonight is _our_ night, and on this first night of Cosmolatry, take a moment to think on not only the divine that you pray to – but to family, friends and loved ones both near and far. Keep them in your thoughts as you join me in prayer, and together we call forth Shiva to bring upon us the last and first winter of the year.”

Luna bowed her head low, turning to kneel before the dawn shard. Her skirt, made of what looked like silken moonlight, rippled as she went down, spreading out around her and falling halfway down the stairs. As one, the entire crowd stood – including Noctis – and then they all knelt, too, sitting on their knees on the cold marble floor of the temple, hands clasped in deferential prayer as the light of the dawn shard _flared_ from warm gold to blinding white, and Luna began to _sing_.

It wasn’t a language Noctis knew – or indeed, one that _anyone_ knew; the meaning of the words and phrases the oracle sung a secret only known to her and the gods – but Luna sang so sweetly, so soft and so warm, like the sun shining down on a summer’s field, that even though he _knew_ the meaning and point of the song was to bid farewell to summer and welcome in Shiva and Her winter, it was almost like he could feel the warmth of the breeze moving through the air beside him as her voice travelled throughout the high, echoing walls of the chamber.

He wondered if Prompto – either at the back of the crowd or with those that had gathered outside – could hear the song the same as he could; the doors and windows to the chamber were open, after all – during Cosmolatry, the rites, there was no part of this place that was closed, the temple open to all.

The chill air that had seeped into the chamber with the opening of the temple’s doors swirled in the breeze that picked up with Luna’s voice as she pushed more power, more _emotion_ into her words – and then, the room darkened, as every candle that had been lit blew _out_ , and even the light of the dawn shard dimmed to a warm glow, like an ember.

The last note of Luna’s hymn rung through the room with a drawn out, echoing finality, and Noctis looked up to see Luna – and most of the crowd – doing the same.

Shiva – She stood, there, just before Luna, on the other side of the altar.

Noctis felt his breath catch in his throat. He’d seen this before – had seen it every year, for as long as he could remember – and he knew that the ‘Shiva’ he saw here before him, a swirl of mist and ice with no physical form but with a shape that somehow revealed itself clearly to the human mind _anyway_ wasn’t the _real_ Glacian – that goddess’ physical form had been destroyed by Niflheim years earlier, and now Her spirit resided within Eos’ field beside the sleeping goddess, only able to come to the world of humans when She was called upon by the oracle – but it still took his breath away, each and every time, to see a storm made manifest swirl in a nebula of _tangible_ power, the taste of ozone and ice blending thick on Noctis’ tongue as he swallowed, and the Glacian settled Herself at the altar, fluctuating snowflakes around Luna and the shard.

The temperature in the air dropped even lower, and static buzzed through Noctis’ mind. He knew what this was – the Glacian was speaking, but Her voice and Her words were far beyond his comprehension; much like the language of her songs, only Luna could understand the divine, and the goddess that stood before her.

Luna stood, and bowed low, keeping her head down as she slowly backed her way down the stairs that led up to the altar, careful not to trip on the train of her skirt. Once she was down on the floor with the rest of them, Shiva _moved_.

The goddess was no longer just the faint perception of a benevolent smile in a shimmering image of icy mist – no, She was a snowstorm, a blizzard, controlled and contained but still utterly wild, tearing about the chamber and freezing the skin of everyone gathered about – twisting and turning smaller, ever smaller, until She only encompassed the burning light of the shard, crystalline and beautiful on the altar.

And then, the finale – like a belated echo of Luna’s song, high, piercing notes rung throughout the chamber as the Glacian offered her hymn to Eos – and then she _struck_ hitting the shard in an explosion of ice that buffeted chill winds out over the crowd with near concussive force – if they weren’t already all close to the ground, kneeling as they were, there was no doubt in Noctis’ mind that they would have all been knocked to the ground.

Once the goddess left, the candles relit – as if by magic, or divine interference.

Luna was the first to stand, as always, and while the rest of them were still stunned and trying to catch their breath, get their sense of _self_ back – only just starting to move stiffly out of the kneeling positions they had been bowed in since entering the temple proper – she seemed perfectly and absolutely composed as she walked back up to the altar, where the dawn shard burned, once more shining as brightly as it had been before Shiva had made Her appearance – only, encased completely in ice.

This was nothing new, so Noctis knew not to panic – not like he had the _first_ time he’d seen it happen, apparently. The way the Glacian had covered the shard in ice was nothing like whatever it was Ifrit had done, all those millennia ago, to extinguish the other shards. If anything, Shiva’s ice protected this final shard during the one period a year it was at its most vulnerable, with the nights being longer and the shard itself actually out in the public eye. On the final day of Cosmolatry – Eos’ day – the ice would shatter as the dawn broke the horizon, signalling an end to both the winter and the Cosmolatry period.

As Noctis watched, Luna placed a gentle hand against the ice, and smiled, before pulling away. She turned to face the crowd once more – filled with people who had, by some stretch of a miracle, managed to pull themselves back together – and opened her mouth to speak; some final words of farewell and blessing before everyone meandered back outside to either return to the ballroom or make their way home.

And that was when the world exploded.

|[-O-]|

It was _cold_.

Prompto shivered a little from where he stood, leant up against the outer pillars of the temple’s entrance hall, a vast piece of beautiful architecture that spanned the land all the way up to the palace gardens – something he hadn’t noticed earlier, and something that made his fingers _burn_ for his camera – or, actually, maybe that was just the cold. Somehow, even after all their discussion about it that morning, both he and Noctis had managed to forget gloves. _Again_.

As that thought crossed his mind ( _without his permission_ ), Prompto scowled. The _last_ thing – person – _whatever_ – he wanted to be thinking about was his supposed best friend, not when happy, fond thoughts like that drained away at his ire and the only thing keeping him warmed currently was his _burning anger_.

“My, my, now _there’s_ a face I haven’t seen in a while.”

The voice came from further down the stairs, where the people that had been spread out on blankets and chairs had been all day, so Prompto didn’t exactly _jump_ as it broke into his thoughts – but he _did_ raise an eyebrow at the man who waved cheerily at him as he made his way up the steps; dressed as he was? No _way_ had he spent all day sitting on the grass. He looked like the type of person to freak out if he got a speck of _dust_ on his shoes, let alone grass stains on his…carpet, coat, _thing_.

“Excuse me?” He said, as politely as he could.

“Oh, it’s just…dressed like that, you’re a rather long way from home, aren’t you?”

Prompto stiffened, and looked up urgently as something whispered _danger_ at him. Normally, he didn’t take orders from the voices that screamed from inside his head – but this didn’t feel like his little chorus _or_ the other, darker presence. It was less ominous, and – for all that it felt _colder_ – somehow _seemed_ warmer. _You should get away from him._

Green eyes met his as they locked gazes, and Prompto swallowed. Eyes shouldn’t _smile_ at a person like that – with a shade of smug triumph he felt the other man had _no_ right to be feeling when all he was doing was _staring_ at Prompto.

“No,” he said cautiously, “you said you _recognised_ me.”

The man blinked, an affectation of innocence that Prompto didn’t buy for a single solitary second. “Well, you _do_ take after your parents, little one,” he said.

Prompto _froze_.

The man’s smirk widened. “Wouldn’t want your, uh… _fiancé_ hearing about that now, _would we_ ,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

It was a threat, and for once – still frozen in fear – Prompto was utterly bamboozled by the fact that his little chorus of screamers and the omnipresent dark presence weren’t taking advantage of his shock, of the way his world had suddenly been knocked off kilter and dipped in fear to wrest control of his body from him. No, like the cold presence that he could still feel, hovering, and could still not make _any_ sense of, they were just watching – and whether they were watching _him_ or the man before him, he couldn’t say.

A careful, slow blink as his reaction was taken in. “I _thought_ so,” the man said. “Now, surely you get tired of lying to him all the time?” A grin, flashing bright white under the reflective light of moon on snow. “Have you ever wondered what would happen to you if he were to… _find out_?”

It occurred to Prompto, suddenly, that he kind of wanted to kill the guy standing in front of him. The cold presence agreed.

At the same time, it also occurred to Prompto that he may _not_ have been entirely in his right mind, given how easily he was giving serious consideration to _cold blooded murder_.

 _The guns,_ he thought. _They’re right there; and pretty much everyone’s inside the temple now. The rites have already begun, so no one will be coming out – and the people already out here are too far down from the top of the steps to see it if you shoot him. It would be easy._

Suddenly, his hands were itching for something _other_ than just his camera, and Prompto swallowed – curled his hands into fists until nails broke through the skin of his palms and the warm wetness of blood dripped down his fingers.

 _That_ was going to be hard to explain to Noctis, he thought.

The faint _drip, drip, drip_ of his blood hitting the frozen marble of the outer temple was all he could hear beside his own pounding heartbeat as the two of them stood in silence, and the man’s gaze tracked the drops as they fell with a carefully affected sort of disinterest; mild amusement was there on his face, too.

“Temper, _temper_ ,” he scolded. “I couldn’t really think of any reasons before, but now…” that grin was back, a sharp flash of white teeth too wide to be anything even _approaching_ friendly. “I can _see_ why he likes you.” He took a step forward, and Prompto automatically stepped back as far as he could, shoulders and back digging painfully into the carved marble of the pillar he’d been resting against – he didn’t want that man _anywhere_ near him.

The man paused, halfway to taking yet another step – and his smile widened; he held his hands up in a gesture of mocking surrender. “No fear, no fear,” he hummed out, and began to back slowly back down the stairs. “The worshipers will be exiting the temple soon anyway.” He flicked one final glance Prompto’s way. “If you’re not in the mood to talk to your lovely groom-to-be, just yet, then I would make myself scarce.” And then he was gone, melting back into the snow and the night the way he had come, and Prompto slumped, his breathing – harsh and panting, like he’d just run a marathon (and he _knew_ what running a marathon felt like) – coming slightly easier, as if a great pressure had been removed from where someone had placed it atop his chest, crushing him.

The cold presence was gone. The dark one was still quiet. Pensive.

That was…honestly nerve-wracking, but Prompto forced himself not to think on it – not when his hands were shaking from a mixture of pain, cold, and a terrifying eagerness to hold his guns at the ready – whether in defence or to _hunt_ , he couldn’t say. His entire head was a _mess_.

As scary and… _weird_ , as that guy had been though – _if he knew he was from Niflheim, knew his parents, did he know what he was_ – he’d had a point when he’d made that snide remark about Prompto not wanting to talk to Noctis, at least not _just_ quite yet – and so Prompto pushed off and away from the pillar he’d been leaning up against, giving a brief and absentminded mental apology to the Lady Eos for bleeding all over her sacred grounds, and sighed before beginning to make his way down the temple stairs.

And that was when the screaming started.

Halfway down the temple steps, Prompto froze, and his little chorus of screamers perked up at the back of his mind as they caught wind of the most interesting thing they’d encountered all night – a faint, muffled _boom_ came from behind him –

Inside the temple, and Prompto turned, whirled – to see no smoke, no broken pillars, but that had definitely been an explosion, and _were_ definitely screams, still echoing out just faintly enough that Prompto doubted anyone on the outside other than him could hear it –

And there were people, people running and shoving, just _pouring_ out of the temple in a panicked, frenzied crowd of colour and gold, kicking up snow as they pushed past Prompto and down the stairs – as he was caught in the crowd, he was moved down with them, the bodies pressing against him warm in their terror – the terror he could _taste_ , thick on his tongue.

The air outside the temple was _cold_ , but Prompto barely felt it through the panic – both his own and the crowd’s as people pushed around him in their haste to _get away_ ; screams and sobs and shouts echoing out through the dark, snowy night.

Craning his neck and stretching to stand on his toes, Prompto watched for Noctis in the crowd that was pouring out of the temple – ‘fiancé’ or not, angry or not, Noctis was still his best friend; his most precious person in the entire world, and the fact that – regardless that he’d been Noct’s plus one – Prompto wasn’t any sort of noble or dignitary meant that he hadn’t been able to sit with Noctis up in the front row, in the temple proper, during the rites; he’d accepted it when King Regis had informed him of it because it was _the temple_ and _Cosmolatry_ – as if _anyone_ would have been sacrilegious enough, _disrespectful_ enough, to orchestrate an attack _there_ of all places, and certainly not during the holiday period.

He was regretting that train of thought now.

“ _You,_ ” said a voice from behind him, right in his ear – if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so wound up with anxiety and worry, he probably would have jumped. As it was, he simply turned to see Gentiana standing at his side, her normally serene façade almost completely broken through. “With me,” she snapped, and began to stalk through the crowd in the direction of the temple, people moving out of her way as soon as she so much _approached_ where they were standing – her stormy aura dismantling even their panic and bringing out the human instincts of self-preservation. Prompto could empathise – Gentiana brought that same fear out in him, too.

Clearly, she expected him to follow.

“Why?” Prompto asked, and jogged quickly through the still open path that was the way she had pushed through the crowd. “I need to find Noct – ”

“You are the only person here that is armed,” Gentiana said pointedly, and Prompto tensed, automatically reaching for the guns concealed in his coat. “And so I will need your aid if I am to keep Lunafreya alive.”

The world seemed to stop spinning. “What?” Prompto asked. His voice was soft, quiet – even to his ears, he sounded deceptively calm.

Gentiana met his gaze with that same not-calm burning in her eyes. “No one else carries weapons,” she said. “There are no guards on duty, and none to mobilise in the palace. By the time help gets here, Lunafreya will be _dead_.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are going to put those sacrilegious weapons of yours to good use, Prompto Argentum.”

Mutely, Prompto nodded – and didn’t scowl or protest the ‘sacrilegious’ title, even though it made him wince and _burn_ inside. He was _loyal_ to Eos and Her teachings – he just didn’t trust Niflheim, and he’d valued Cor’s words and Noct’s life more than he’d valued the empire’s ability to keep to a longstanding holiday tradition of peace. And now? Even though he’d been feeling guilty about it only earlier that day, there was absolutely _no way_ he regretted keeping the guns on him now – and equally, there was no way Gentiana could disagree, considering how badly she was convinced that Lady Lunafreya _needed_ him to have those guns on his person.

Gentiana was moving _fast_ again as they entered the temple – Prompto kept jogging in order to keep up, not sure how she made that glide seem so effortless and smooth, and pulled out both guns, checking them over and flicking the safety off, feeling the familiar _ch-chink_ of the first bullet falling into the chamber as he slid a finger into each trigger, pressing against the guard. You weren’t meant to do that – keep fingers on the triggers when you weren’t aiming to shoot – but Prompto was secure enough in both his own skills and his reflexes to be able to bring the guns up in time to shoot enemies _and_ manage _not_ to shoot something – or someone – that he shouldn’t.

He was being led deeper and deeper into the temple, even further past the place where Gentiana had taken him earlier that day and he’d nearly ripped her throat out – he shot her a questioning glance as they ran and said, “where, exactly, are we going?”

“Lunafreya was carrying the dawn shard,” Gentiana said bluntly. “If these were just human attackers, it would have been safe on the altar, but can you not sense it?”

Prompto blinked. “Sense what?”

A sour look sent his way, from over her shoulder. “Daemons,” she said, and there was a _deep_ distaste in her voice. “Breaking through the wards and protections of this sacred ground, all to strike at the shard while it’s at its weakest.” She shook her head, a curl to her lip. “Only the betrayer could orchestrate something like this,” she said firmly. “Which means Lunafreya is in danger so long as she holds the shard.”

Prompto stared at her for a brief moment, before shaking his head clear. “Well, where would Lady Lunafreya be taking the shard?” He asked, pointedly ignoring the excitement that had been rising in his screamers since he’d brought out the guns – and the dark amusement that the presence was exuding as it watched the situation through his eyes. It was almost as if its attention lingered on Gentiana – taking in her pain and stress and _relishing_ in it.

“The shard has a chamber deep below the temple, where it is ensconced within the earth as the final Heart of Dawn,” Gentiana said, a bunch of pretty words that meant approximately _zero_ to Prompto. “Surrounded by earth, the same element that embodies Eos in this world as it does in Her field, the shard would be safe from corruption – or from being extinguished. Lunafreya seeks to place it there before the daemons that have breached the temple’s protection can reach it.”

Prompto nodded, mouth set in a firm line. “Do you know how many daemons broke through?” He asked, and Gentiana shook her head, _no_.

“Too much havoc to tell,” she said. “I don’t think there were all that many, though – ”

She broke off, and stiffened – Prompto was immediately on alert, raising his guns up at the ready and automatically tapping into that _not human_ part of him that he’d had kept buried for so long – because he didn’t know how else to fight, really; Niflheim was the only place he’d ever been trained and they had _encouraged_ the first generation to rely on the parts of them that were daemon – tasting the air and searching out with sight and scent and –

_There._

He smirked, and made the shot before the daemon had even realised it had been spotted, a tonberry standing silent and eerie as they always were, staring at him with soulless eyes it no longer bothered to hide now that it _knew_ he knew where it was, the light of its lantern suddenly shining bright, the blade of its knife glinting as it raised it, tilting it perpendicular to its head.

Tonberries had always scared him as a kid – and not just in Insomnia, with ghost stories and exaggerations being passed around classrooms from cautionary tales parents had told their children; _go straight to sleep or the tonberry will get you!_ No, his fear of tonberries had come much earlier, from those faint memories that he’d never managed to push down from his time spent in a Niflheim base training facility, where ‘survival of the strongest’ meant ‘throw the kids into a dark room filled with daemons and see who’s still alive come morning.’

So, yeah. Prompto _hated_ tonberries.

 _Bang, bang, bang_ – the thing wasn’t dead yet, so Prompto bared his teeth and kept shooting until he’d emptied the entire clip into the _thing’s_ head. Switch guns. Reload. _Repeat_.

And then it was dead, fading away in wisps of chaos and plasma – but Prompto _wasn’t_ done. Because Gentiana _had been right_ , and he could _taste_ them now, daemons crawling all over the temple and hunting down that light he could feel _burning_ just a bit ahead of and below him, moving all the time.

The dark presence laughed in the back of his mind as he made his way down the hall, alone – Gentiana was gone, which would have been concerning if not for the fact that he was _hunting_ – what did he need her for? She wasn’t his prey, and he didn’t want her _stealing_ kills from him, either – she’d probably gone straight on while he dealt with the tonberry, since she was so concerned with Lady Lunafreya – and that was good. She could deal with whatever was going on down there.

 _He_ would deal with the daemons.

(If his head had been clearer, he would have been concerned about the fact that the only presence he could feel in his mind just then was the darkest one – because while his little chorus of screamers begged for violence and blood and _pain_ , the dark presence, the voice – it was _much_ crueller. It wasn’t a mindless seeker of violence – no, it was a _predator_ –

And like most predators assured of their own strength and superiority, it enjoyed _playing_ with its food.)

-x-

Prompto came back to himself…sometime later. He didn’t know how long he’d been…under, but it had to have been a _while_ – he was breathing hard, sweat soaking through his clothes (which were torn, he saw, stained all over with blood and ichor), his hair all but plastered to his head. More than that, he was in an area of the temple he wouldn’t have recognised if he’d _tried_ – meaning he’d wandered further, deeper than he ever had before.

It was then, blinking as he stood, awake all of a sudden when he hadn’t even realised he had been asleep, that he heard the shallow, panting breaths that were coming from before him – and realised he wasn’t alone…wherever he was.

He looked up.

Lady Lunafreya was pale.

There was a tension in her face that Prompto couldn’t truly read, but he saw the faint widening of her eyes as she stared at him, and his mind translated that the only way it could – terror. She was _scared_ of him. And, well, he couldn’t really blame her; guns raised and chaos as thick as blood splattered across him and dripping down his face like a dark miasma, the taste of something heavy and thick in his mouth that he was worried _wasn’t_ just his own blood and a wild, maniacal laughter beginning to echo through the back of his mind – he terrified _himself_.

 _Where did I go?_ He wondered frantically. What had _happened?_

He’d – he’d been with Gentiana, and they’d been heading towards Luna, and then – and then –

And then _what?_

He didn’t know. _He didn’t know_.

It was terrifying, and he swallowed – whatever it was that was coating the inside of his mouth was slick and went down easy, and he felt sick to his stomach, scared to so much as say a _word_ to Lady Lunafreya – if he’d lost himself so completely, who was to say that he hadn’t, at some point, decided that his teeth would make as good a weapon as his guns, and carried through with the threat he’d bared at Gentiana earlier that day? After all, you didn’t get as torn up as he was from fighting from a distance with _guns –_ and if he _had_ gone full-on daemon mode…there would be _black_ on his teeth, wouldn’t there?

The laughter was still low in the back of his mind, a buzz that wasn’t going to go away – so Prompto swallowed once more, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat and very deliberately _not_ thinking on the fact that whatever was in his mouth (most likely ichor) tasted _good_.

“Prompto?” Lady Lunafreya’s voice was small, and very shaken. “Are you okay?”

The laughter was suddenly external as well as internal – it bubbled up in Prompto’s chest and throat and broke out before he could stop himself, and then he was doubled over, caught in a fit of hysterical hilarity, because the only other option was to burst into tears.

“Are _you_?” He shot back, and she nodded.

“The shard was already safe when the daemons down here attacked me,” she said quietly, and shifted from where she was all but collapsed against the floor to rise up and head cautiously in Prompto’s direction – hands outstretched as if to calm a wild animal, or assure him that she meant no harm. “You got here just in time to save me, Prompto.”

His laughter sounded a little more broken now. “You shouldn’t be thanking a monster for being one,” he said. “If I – if I hadn’t snapped out of it when I did, _you_ would be just as dead as those daemons.”

He tried not to listen to the little voice in the back of his mind that insisted the blood of an oracle would taste even sweeter than a daemon’s corrupted ichor – and he _hoped_ it was one of the voices that had made itself at home in his head and not just his own thoughts, as twisted and monstrous as the rest of him was.

Carefully, cautiously, as if giving either him or herself the time to pull away if they wanted, Luna reached out to grasp his shoulder gently. “You’re not a monster, Prompto,” she whispered. “You’re…just a little bit of a liar.”

Prompto laughed.

And then he sobbed, and Luna wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight to her with no thought for her clothes being stained by blood and ichor, no concern for her own health or _life_ as she cradled him up against her – his face pressed into the space between her shoulders and her neck as he cried.

His guns fell from his hands as he hugged her back desperately, his mind desperately trying to just be _blank_ so he didn’t have to _think_ – and then she sung, a faint, lilting tune that had him _stilling_ in her arms –

It was the warmest he had felt in _years._

|[-O-]|

Prompto hadn’t been in the temple with them, and that had been the only thing keeping Noctis from panicking as he’d been pushed outside with the crowd – that Prompto hadn’t been where the attack took place, so of _course_ he was safe.

That had been five hours ago, and that cool reassurance he had managed to summon forth had frayed and frayed and _frayed_ , to the point where his final tether was about to snap _completely_ – and if _one more person_ came up and asked him if he _needed help to find his fiancé amidst the chaos_ , he was going to _scream_.

 _Where are you?_ He sent out yet _another_ text to Prompto – this made eighty, he thought. He considered checking Sensa again, but every time he did that he was literally _flooded_ with alerts and messages he did _not_ want to deal with right then (if ever), and not once had Prompto’s greyed out name flickered to blue life on his friend’s list.

He gritted his teeth, sighed, and resigned himself to another search of the crowd still milling about the temples steps as they waited for news, for instructions…for anything, really, as the pitch dark of the night faded to the pre-dawn grey of the morning’s first light. It was a large crowd, after all – over three thousand people gathered in Tenebrae each year for Cosmolatry, minimum, so it was entirely possible that he and Prompto just kept _missing_ each other, as much as he hated to think that.

Of course, when the only other possibility was that something _had_ gone very wrong, maybe that option was just for the best?

“Noctis!” Luna’s voice – the voice of someone else he’d spent hours fretting about, ever since he’d lost sight of her in the temple after he’d gotten swept out by the panicked crowd; he turned with relief filling him to see Luna jogging up to him, no longer wearing the gown she had had on earlier but looking no worse for wear, really – just tired.

He met her halfway in a hug that nearly knocked them both down to the ground – he held her tight, and closed his eyes as he thanked Etro for not taking her away just yet. He had no real idea of what the _hell_ had been going on that night, but the facts of the matter where this: someone had attacked the temple on Cosmolatry, during the rites when the one person _guaranteed_ to be there without fail was the oracle. This had been an attack on _Luna_ , of that there was no doubt in Noctis’ mind.

“Luna,” he breathed, and squeezed her tight to him before letting her go – she smiled and moved back, but not _too_ far back – close enough that he could reach out and huge her again, if he wanted.

“Hey,” she said, and smiled wanly. “How are you doing?”

He stared at her, caught between disbelief and exasperation, because _of course_ those were the first words out of Luna’s mouth – not concern for herself, or for the state of her temple, but for _him_ – someone who was _clearly_ entirely fine, just because they were friends.

“I’m fine,” he said. “What about you? You’ve changed your clothes…” He trailed off, and Luna shook her head as he squinted at the jeans and blouse she was wearing – far more casual than _anything_ he’d ever seen her in before.

“My dress got a little bit stained,” she confided. “You should have seen Ravus’ _face_ when I came crawling out of the temple! I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel.”

Despite himself, Noctis smiled at the image her words produced – before he shook his head clear and frowned once more. “Why were you dirty?” He pressed, and Luna sighed.

“The underground areas of the temple are really dusty, you know? In pretty bad shape, too, because people don’t really go down there.” She shook her head, _what can you do?_ “We should probably actually get someone to look into that.”

He squinted at her. “Why were you in the underground levels?” He asked, and she blinked at him.

“To put the dawn shard away, somewhere it would be safe,” she said plainly. “Even if the attack turned out to be nothing, there was no way I could _risk_ letting it be endangered.”

Noctis tilted his head in acknowledgement of her point. “Okay,” he said, and sighed as he scanned the crowd once more. “You haven’t happened to see Prompto, by any chance?” He asked – not truly believing she had, if she’d crawled her way around the temple’s underground and then made her way back to the palace to _change her clothes_ , simply desperate at that point –

But then he saw how she winced at his words, guilt twisting around the soft edges of her mouth, and his eyes narrowed.

“ _Luna_ ,” he warned, and she winced again.

“…He’s with Ravus,” she said, her voice very small.

Noctis blinked. “… _What_.”

|[-O-]|

The hoodie was one he had owned for years, worn almost to the thread and too loose in the body but too short in the sleeves, constricting tight around his forearms – but to Prompto, slipping it on in that moment, still mostly soaked from his shower, felt like tearing himself out of the skin of a stranger, and slipping back into something more familiar – maybe not _exactly_ the same as he had been before, but not different enough that he wouldn’t recognise himself if he looked into the mirror…something he’d been trying very hard not to do. He was incredibly thankful that he’d had the shower hot enough to completely fog up every reflective surface in the bathroom, even if that hadn’t actually been the plan – mostly, he’d just wanted the water scalding enough to _hurt_ – so long as his skin burned pink, he was still human, at least mostly, he thought. Something as minor as hot water wouldn’t mark a daemon like that.

(The jury was still out on the whole ‘monster’ thing, though – for all of Lady Lunafreya’s kind words, there was no way she could deny that _that_ is what he was, meaning that she probably hadn’t seen all the chaos he had wreaked around the temple.

He wondered if Gentiana had. He wondered if the handmaiden was wondering how best to get rid of him, so he never had the chance to get near Lady Lunafreya again.

He was kind of wondering the same thing himself, to be completely honest.)

A series of sharp knocks on the bathroom door broke him out of his thoughts, and Prompto blinked – imagining, in that moment, that he could see the incensed expression of Ravus Nox Fleuret twisted into annoyance _beyond_ mere annoyance as he checked up on the wellbeing of a Lucian nobody.

 _He saved my life_ , Luna had said when she’d handed him over to the surprisingly anxious brother that had been waiting for his sister to exit the temple at the entrance to one of the apparently _many_ secret passages into the temple. _He’s a little shell-shocked. I’ve got Gentiana, so please, won’t you help him clean up a bit?_

Ravus had made it no secret that he still didn’t like Prompto, but he’d been surprisingly civil, and even slightly concerned, in a gruff, holier-than-thou sort of way. Apparently, saving the life of his little sister got you far in his books. Good to know. Prompto made a note to try and get Luna and Noct to stage something together – maybe _then_ Ravus would get off of both his high horse and Noct’s back.

He blinked. _Noct_ , he thought, and panic rose up in him – as well as a fierce, sudden desire to just _see_ his best friend. They still needed to talk about the mess Noctis had landed them in – oh, did they _ever_ need to _talk_ – but as far as Prompto was concerned in that moment, the fallout was the fallout and they’d just have to _deal_ ; for the actual act of messing up itself, Prompto had already forgiven him. It was hard _not_ to, in light of what he’d spent _his_ night doing.

He shuddered, ready to sink back into that spiral of self-loathing, when the knocking came again – louder, more insistent.

“Are you _done_?” Ravus asked, and Prompto yelled back a mute _yeah_. “Then get _out_ ,” he snapped. “I wish to go see my sister, something I cannot do while burdened with the guardianship of _you_.”

Prompto rolled his eyes – it wasn’t like he was a _child_ ; Ravus could have left _whenever_ he wanted – but he didn’t say anything, simply strolled over to the door and pulled it open, walking past Ravus without a word, and grabbing for the phone he’d placed down on the bedside table before he went to shower.

Ravus was a dick, to be sure – a massive one, and Prompto didn’t think they would _ever_ get along – but he’d stayed, and as much as he hated to admit it, Prompto probably actually really _had_ needed someone to be hovering around him just then – sinking into the depressive maze that was his own mind was _not_ a good idea, not when the dark presence was already swimming so close to the surface with how he’d let it loose that night.

Ravus snorted, and – seeing that he apparently wasn’t drowning or anything equally annoying – left the room with a huff. Prompto watched him go absentmindedly, thumbing his phone to life and wincing when he saw that he had nearly a hundred alerts from Noct’s number – missed call after missed call and a _myriad_ of text messages. There were a series of texts from Cor, too – a quick glance showed they were about the engagement debacle and then the temple attack, and Prompto quickly backed out of that series of messages as quickly as he could. He would deal with _that_ particular sleeping dragon at a later date. For now, he’d let Noct know he was in their room, and let sleeping dragons lie – it would be safer for _everyone_ that way, probably.

After he’d sent his message to Noct, he went to place his phone down – and then hesitated, and looked at the gradient blue-to-purple icon that was the app for Sensa – and then, wincing with his eyes shut, opened it up.

His inbox still showed **99+** messages, and he just _blanked_ the notification bar out in his mind – hell, looking at his feed didn’t help him pick out what was important from what was useless considering the amount of times he’d just been _tagged_ by people who were absolutely complete strangers – so instead of scrolling through the forums like he normally would, he did something he hadn’t done since high school – he flicked to the ‘trending’ page.

Almost immediately, he regretted it – right at the top was a tag he had a sinking feeling was about _him_ \- **#PrinceConsort**

 

> So I did the, uh, math, and if I did it RIGHT, then once they get married **@quicksilver** will be Prince Noctis’ **#PrinceConsort**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  Can they get married? Like, having a **#PrinceConsort** would be cool, don’t get me wrong – but is it actually, you know, legal?
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@mm_m** It’s absolutely legal! I mean, depending on which church they take their vows under, the definition of marriage is a bit skewed, but under Etro anything goes **#TheLady #PrinceConsort**
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@tk** no, I mean, **@noctis_caelum** is a prince. he’ll need heirs? a guy can’t give him heirs.
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@mm_m @tk** so he’ll just have to get an ACTUAL consort or something. AI is a thing, surrogacy is a thing. There are so many ways that we can have a **#PrinceConsort** and still have heirs.
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **@roatoa** has a point.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  So, as I was saying, **#PrinceConsort** for the win.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  The Lucian flag flies black AND rainbow today! **#PrinceConsort**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

His eyes widened as he scrolled down through the tag, earlier despair momentarily forgotten. Most of the posts were similar to that – and with a sinking feeling, Prompto knew –

This was _never_ going to go away.

A new post appeared, and caught his eye, given that it had been written by a _very_ familiar username – **zephyr**

 

> Congratulations to **@noctis_caelum** and his beloved **#PrinceConsort** I await my appointment as both flower and best girl.

 

Despite himself, Prompto grinned – even though it was ridiculous, and stupid, and she was probably only half joking – somehow, Iris always knew how to make him smile.

And that was how Noctis found him, five minutes later – curled up on top of his covers, a faint smile still on his face just from thinking on how badly Iris was probably getting grilled back at home.

He rolled over, and met Noct’s sombre gaze with one of his own.

“We _really_ need to talk,” they said in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the author vanished, not to update again for a little while...
> 
> hopefully this cliffie isn't as bad as the last one?


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'sup. welcome, one and all, to what is _technically_ the final chapter - vii is just an epilogue to wrap up loose ends back in Insomnia. _this_ is where the tale comes to an end - and well, it makes sense, doesn't it? after all, this was always imagined as a romance...and a romance was achieved.
> 
> warnings for both sexy times and a bit of gore in this chapter, thankfully not in the same context, and there is also a bit near the end where purely for experimental purposes Prompto engages in some knife-on-self action. if this isn't your thing, feel free to skip. it's like literally right at the end and its a short scene so you won't miss anything
> 
> I would like to take a moment to remind y'all that sex does not have to involve penetration in any way, shape or form, so when Noctis calls it sex, hell yeah it was sex. I don't do penetration at all. not m/m not f/m not f/f. no penetration for me. it gives me the heebie jeebies.
> 
> see y'all next time for the epilogue. thanks for going on this journey with me! y'all are seriously some of the best readers a girl could hope for, so thank you so much for existing!

For a minute, there was only silence between them.

It wasn’t an awkward silence, per se – more a, _okay, so where do we go from here?_ sort of stall as they both floundered; knowing that they _had_ to talk this out but not quite sure of the words to use.

Thankfully, for both Prompto’s nerves and completely blank mind, it was Noctis that made the first move. “I – uh, I need to tell you something,” he said, and there was something in his tone – tight, wound up tense – that had Prompto just staring at him as he made to move further into the room and sit down on his bed next to him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I figured.”

But Noctis shook his head. “No – not about the whole, uh… _marriage_ thing.” He winced. “This…this is – something else.”

Prompto tilted his head. “Something else – ” he broke off, words and breath catching in his throat.

He glanced down at the warmth that had suddenly entwined itself around his hand – where Noctis had slid his fingers into the gaps between Prompto’s, and gripped on tight.

“Don’t freak out,” Noctis said tightly, and Prompto flicked his gaze back up from where it had fallen to meet Noct’s eyes. “But – I’m having a hard time finding the words, so…” He took a deep breath, and shifted on the bed, like he was bracing himself. “I think it would be best if I just _show_ you.”

Prompto blinked. “Show me – ?”

Lips on his. His words cut off; brain shorted out. _Does not compute_.

It took a moment for clear thought to return to him – but when it did, his eyes widened, because _Noctis was kissing him_.

And – and it was _definitely_ a kiss; maybe Noct’s lips were a little off centre; too tight with whatever tension he was feeling, maybe the angle they were pressed together at was a little awkward – but his fingers tightened around Prompto’s, thumb tracing patterns along his wrist as he leant in all that more closer, tilting his head to the side – and Prompto _wasn’t pulling away_.

He’d just made the executive decision that that was _exactly_ what he was going to do – clearly, he was the only one of them _actually thinking_ – when Noct’s tongue came out to trace along his lips.

His mental fortitude took another heavy hit, and his mind fuzzed into pure static – he was only vaguely aware of what he did next; when he blinked his eyes back open to awareness (and when, exactly, had he closed them) he’d parted his lips, open mouth pressing _hard_ against Noct’s – and when Noctis pulled back slightly, it was _Prompto_ that leant in, following – instinctively chasing that warmth as he caught Noctis’ bottom lip between his teeth; biting down just enough as Noct pulled back that their parting was a lingering drag – Noct’s lips were a bright, flushed pink when they pulled apart enough that they were completely separate from one another.

They were both breathing hard – Prompto’s head felt like a complete mess as he stared; Noctis didn’t look any better, really – his cheeks were as flushed as his lips and his eyes were glassy – he seemed to be _stunned_ as Prompto watched him.

“What – what was _that_?” Red was steadily climbing up Noct’s neck, and now Prompto was just as confused as he apparently was.

“What do you mean?” Prompto just _looked_ at him. “ _You’re_ the one that started it.”

“Yes, but – I was expecting you to _punch_ me, not _kiss me back_.” His last words were mumbled under his breath, and any lingering warmth Prompto felt from the kiss drained away as he raised his eyebrows at Noctis.

“Are you _complaining?_ ” He didn’t know why he felt so insulted – so hurt – at the way Noctis was acting, he hadn’t even _wanted_ his friend to kiss him –

But he had, and Prompto had returned the kiss for what it was; a gesture of honesty between the two of them. Noctis had said he’d wanted to _show Prompto something_ – and he had. In that moment, Prompto hadn’t been thinking about the stupid marriage mess Noct had gotten them into like an _idiot_ , or the fact that he hadn’t actually brushed his teeth yet so there was only the fact that he’d had a shower that had washed the remnants of ichor from his mouth; no, he’d been thinking, in that moment, that he _understood_. Not so much thought as it was feeling, he _got_ it, got what Noctis was trying to communicate –

Because, even though he’d tried to _stop_ it, he’d felt the same way, too. For _years_.

He’d just…never expected for Noctis to reciprocate – he was just himself, after all; he was amazed they were friends at all, it wasn’t like he actually had anything to offer to a prince –

But before he could get too lost within his own confusing spiral of depression and hurt fuelled anger, Noctis shook his head frantically, an immediate denial.

“No, I – ” Noct let out a huff of air, and his face showed quite clearly his frustration. His fingers, still intertwined with Prompto’s, slid out of his grasp. “I just wasn’t expecting you to respond so…enthusiastically.” Prompto blushed, and Noctis shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting you to respond at all, really…but that – that wasn’t about _kissing_ you, Prompto.”

Prompto quirked his brow. “Oh, really?” He asked. “What was it about, then?”

Instead of answering, Noctis leant in close to Prompto’s personal space – but not to go for another kiss, Prompto knew this without even thinking too hard on it – no, his lips were turned down into a frown and his eyes were narrowed, gaze flicking all over Prompto with an intensity that was almost frightening.

“How do you feel?” He asked carefully. Prompto would have thought he was trying to judge, in a roundabout way, what Prompto felt about what _Noctis_ felt – except there was something to his voice, in his tone; a severity that had him pausing, to consider quite honestly what he was _actually_ feeling – because he suspected that Noctis was looking for an answer far from as flippant as the one Prompto just instinctively wanted to give him.

It was with a frown that he realised there was a heat buzzing like static through his entire body – he’d been feeling it since the kiss but brushed it off absentmindedly; blaming it _on_ said kiss – but now that he thought on it, and took full stock of his own body –

Silence had all but _echoed_ in his mind since he’d gone full-on daemon mode in the temple, but he’d still felt the presence of his little chorus and the voice…just faintly. Like they’d burnt out whatever major energy they had, at least for now. He hadn't even considered taking his pills - everything had been numb and fuzzy when Ravus had deposited him back at his room; by the time his head had cleared Noctis had entered the room already and once more given his thoughts a reason to flee his mind.

But now that he thought on it - it was _weird_ , wasn't it?

He frowned, and narrowed his eyes at Noctis. " _What_ did you to me?"

Noctis blinked, and flinched slightly - holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence, surrender. "Just - give me a minute to explain," he said. "My dad is already going to _kill_ me for this; I don't need you to be doing his job for him before he even gets the chance."

Prompto raised his brows at Noctis. “It’s that bad?” He said, intrigued despite himself, and Noctis winced.

“Yeah…maybe?” He said. “If it had come at any other time, it probably wouldn’t be as bad, but…with this marriage thing – yeah. There’ll be yelling when we get back to Insomnia, no doubt about it.”

 _Let’s not go back, then_ , Prompto thought, but didn’t say. The thought was a stupid one, born of his incredibly fervent desire to _not_ face Noctis’ father, who had been intimidating enough before they’d left the citadel, and back then he had been _friendly_. He didn’t mean it, which Noct…would _probably_ understand, but considering how frazzled he looked, he didn’t want to risk that he wouldn’t and just cause more tension.

“Noctis,” he said. “Seriously. _What did you do?_ ”

Noctis sighed, and looked at him kind of shakily. “I – I linked you to me,” he said slowly. “To the crystal – I –”

“You gave me magic,” Prompto realised, and let out a long breath. “Noctis – _why_?”

Noct’s eyes on his were dark, serious. “Blood and breath are what bind a Household,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking down to fix on Prompto’s hand. “That’s how the royal line shares its magic, too – Ignis, Gladio and I formed blood pacts once I was old enough to have them fall officially under my service and purview; all of the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard – all those that fall under the Caelum banner – drink wine laced with blood before they’re sworn into service; my father’s blood.”

He sent a cautious look Prompto’s way before his gaze flicked back down, and it just _clicked_ – “Blood and breath,” he said, quietly, sombrely, and fought the urge to touch at his suddenly burning lips (he couldn’t help the fact that his tongue darted out to lick along them, though). “That’s what that kiss was about?”

Mutely, Noctis nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Like I told you, I was trying to show you something –” he looked up, and his eyes were fierce, burning; piercing Prompto through with cold, blue fore. “– I was trying to show you that, that this marriage thing – even though it was _completely_ accidental, I don’t – I _can’t_ regret it at all, because…because it _forced_ me to face something I’ve been avoiding for a while.” Noctis took a deep breath, and locked gazes directly with him. “I love you, Prompto,” he said bluntly, his words coming out so fast as he hurried through speaking them that they almost slurred altogether as one. Even as the world tilted on its side as his mind ever so slowly took in and processed what Noctis had just said to him, he couldn’t look away from his friend’s eyes – Noct’s gaze held him there, frozen. “And I mean, I’m _in_ love with you. In a Household – blood is for friends and servants; for family, kith and kin – breath is…” he faltered. “Breath is – it’s for lovers. It’s a symbolic sharing of life, an exchange and a promise, all at once. It – it’s how my father welcomed my mother into his Household; how Caelum’s have done so for generations – I mean, it’s how they’ve claimed the person they want to spend the rest of their life with.” He took a shaky breath. “And…now, it’s how I’ve welcomed you into mine.”

Noctis wasn’t the only one feeling shaky – Prompto felt his breath coming shallowly as he shook his head at Noctis’ words – not a negation of them, but just…disbelief; an involuntary action that he had no conscious control over.

There were a lot of things he could have said in that moment, with Noctis looking at him so seriously, clearly bracing himself for whatever it was Prompto was going to say – was he expecting rejection? – A veritable myriad of sentences and disconnected words buzzing around his head – but he understood the significance of what it was Noctis was telling him; trying to communicate to him in so many words.

And so, he could only blame the warm, fuzzy sentimentality that filled him at Noct’s words (beyond just the shock and confusion) for what he did next.

He stared directly at Noct, and pushed down every never in his body. “Would it…would it be okay with you if I kissed you again?” he asked. “ _Right now?_ ”

A sharp sound – Noct’s breath caught in his throat, Prompto _heard_ it as he almost choked on air, eyes widening like he hadn’t actually expected Prompto to say _anything_ –

And then he was nodding, and leaning forward – but slowly, far too slow for Prompto’s liking and the fizzing warmth that was bubbling up inside him like a triumph he’d never expected nor wanted to feel; a wary denial that he hadn’t even focused on consciously for _years_ suddenly debunked, _Noctis actually liked him, too_ –

He was smiling as their lips touched.

|[-O-]|

Kissing Prompto wasn’t really like anything Noctis had ever imagined – and he _had_ imagined it, at times, to his embarrassment and shame when he’d had to look his friend in his face the next day – whereas in his head it had been smooth and perfect and he’d _actually_ known what he was doing, in reality it was…far from it.

After all, in his life, he’d kissed a total of _one_ person – a girl, back when he was sixteen, who had asked him out on a date so sweetly and politely he had felt too awkward to refuse; he’d taken her to dinner and afterwards hadn’t been quick enough to dodge her kiss – they’d parted on amenable terms, but only really because that kiss had been _nothing_. He only had a vague idea of how kissing actually _worked_ and what he’d learned from fiction – books, movies – to go off of, here.

He’d thought that since Prompto had never been one to shy away from dating – had, in fact, gotten detention and demerit points awarded to him multiple times over the years for making out with boys and girls alike on school grounds – his friend would at least have _some_ idea of what they were doing, and could guide him –

But honestly, they were both as bad as each other. Noctis had never imagined kissing Prompto as _awkward_ , but that was…almost pretty much exactly what it was.

And it was just as he thought this that Prompto burst into laughter against his mouth, pulling away from him and ducking his head to the crook of Noctis’ neck to muffle his snickers.

“You’re way too tense,” he mumbled against his skin, and Noctis shivered as warm breath moved over his neck with the faintest brushing of lips. “Seriously, Noct, I’m not going to bite you, or anything.”

Well, actually, that lip biting thing he’d done before had been kind of hot, and if a repeat of that were to happen Noctis certainly wouldn’t be _complaining_ – mentally, he shook himself, and tried to summon that surety he’d felt when he’d first entered the room as Prompto continued to laugh lightly against him. He’d come to their bedroom with one single, sole purpose – to bind Prompto to himself and the crystal in a move he knew could not be misconstrued by _anyone_ – his motives behind that act would be abundantly clear to everyone who _knew_. And, caught in that space – that space of magic and confidence and a burning desire for all of it to just _work_ –

He breathed deeply, evenly. And then he reached up one hand, to run his fingers through Prompto’s hair.

Under his hand, Prompto froze, and Noctis nearly pulled back, uncertainty threatening like a tidal wave to crash down and overwhelm him once more – but then Prompto relaxed, going almost completely boneless as he slumped down against Noctis, and made an approving humming noise.

Automatically, Noctis’ hand started moving once more, twisting and twining through slightly damp strands of golden hair; it was an unthinking motion, because the majority of his mind and attention were taken up by thinking on the all-encompassing warmth and weight that had suddenly taken him over, pressed against him wherever he and Prompto touched.

“…How long have you felt this way?” Prompto’s voice was quiet, and if he hadn’t been pressed right up against Noctis’ ear, he probably wouldn’t have heard him. He blinked, and tilted his head down to see that Prompto had turned his head from where it rested on his shoulder. Their eyes met, and Noctis saw just how _serious_ his friend was about this.

“A while,” he said honestly, and continued on before the little annoyed flicker at the corner of Prompto’s eyes could grow into anything worse, “A few years.”

Surprise briefly showed in the suddenly very obvious whites of Prompto’s eyes. “How – how many is a few?”

As carelessly as he could, Noctis shrugged. “I only really started to realise it just before your seventeenth birthday,” he confessed. “But I’m pretty sure I had a crush on you for years without acknowledging it consciously – since we met, almost, probably.”

Red stained Prompto’s cheeks, and his face was turned away then, burying back into the crook of Noctis’ neck. The way they were sitting – an embrace, really – wasn’t all that too much different from how they’d be just on his couch or whatever at his apartment, messing around or playing King’s Knight – or how Prompto liked to wrap himself around any available sources of heat like an octopus; but in that moment, it felt different, more intimate – like the silence between them that had been there for so long as they both danced around the topic had finally just _vanished_.

“So, your dad knows, then,” Prompto said. “That, even if the marriage thing was accidental, you were at least…a _little_ serious about it.”

At that, Noctis paused. He hadn’t even actually considered that possibility – but now that he thought on it, yeah. It was more than a little plausible.

He shrugged, smiling as apologetically as he could when Prompto pulled away from him and frowned. “Be honest, how hard is the king going to kill me dead?”

A bark of startled laughter broke free from Noctis’ throat before he could help himself, and he shook his head at Prompto. “He won’t kill you,” he said. “He’ll give you the eyebrows of Kingly Disapproval, which are…pretty much just as bad.” He paused, considered, and then continued on, “Or, considering the fact that you’re technically in line to become his son-in-law, you might get the frown of Fatherly Disappointment, which has been known to cause me nightmares.”

Prompto let out a groan that tapered off into a keening whine. “ _Mean_ ,” he complained. “You’re _mean_.”

Noctis smiled, and leant in close to Prompto, so that their noses were touching. “Mean, maybe,” he agreed. “But I’m also the only one here that can teach you how to access your magic.”

Interest lit up in Prompto’s eyes, but his grin as Noctis stared at him was sly, close to a smirk. “I’ll have to return the favour with some kissing lessons,” he said, and Noctis pulled back to shoot him a mock-wounded look, hand pressed to his chest just above his heart.

“Rude,” he said, and Prompto laughed. “ _Rude_.”

“It’s not rude if it’s _true_ ,” Prompto teased, and Noctis was just about to _shove his ungrateful butt off of the bed_ when his phone started buzzing – as one, they both froze, and sent each other uncertain looks.

“Do I…answer it?” he asked, unsure, and not even wanting to look at the caller ID out of fear.

Prompto shrugged. “I guess?” he said. “I mean, if it’s your dad, you kind of have to answer, don’t you?”

Noctis spread his hands helplessly. “Probably?” he said, and reached reluctantly for his phone. Tension built in his shoulders as he flipped it over to see the screen – and he automatically relaxed when he saw that it was Luna, not his father, who was calling him.

“Oh,” Prompto said, from where he’d rolled around on the bed to peer over Noctis’ screen. He looked up at him. “You going to answer her?”

Noctis nodded, and hit the ‘accept call’ button, before bringing the phone up to his ear.

(“Put it on speaker,” Prompto hissed, and Noctis kicked him.)

“Luna,” he said, once the call had rung through, trying not to feel the anxiety that bubbled up in him – as unbelievable as it was, even to himself, he’d actually managed to _forget_ , even if only for a brief moment, that the temple – that _Luna_ – had been attacked; the cozy warmth that had filled him from just being with Prompto lingering in his mind like a numbing agent – everything in the world had felt so _right_ that it seemed impossible that anything could have gone wrong. “What is it?”

(But it had gone wrong, and there was nothing Noctis could do except bite at his lip and hold his breath and hope that whatever reason Luna was calling him for was not a bad one.)

“I was wondering if you and Prompto had finished with your talk yet.” Luna’s voice was even and calm, and Noctis felt the breath he was holding leave him in a long sigh as he slumped down and closed his eyes briefly in relief. “The two of you are meant to leave before lunch, after all, and I still want to spend more time with you – if you’re done, come down to my rooms for breakfast? I know I’m supposed to be at the temple for ceremony for welcoming Titan’s day, but…well, no one is at the temple right now, so it’s not like I’ll be missed.” He could hear the pleading in her tone, even though the tinny echo of the phone line. “Please, Noctis? I don’t want to say goodbye to you for another year without having had even the _chance_ for a proper conversation.”

Faint guilt filled him, but mostly he just felt a soft, warm familiarity – a smile tugged at his lips and he nodded, before realising she wouldn’t have heard that over the line, and saying, “We’ll be down there straight away.”

Her smile was obvious in her voice when she responded – “Thank you,” she said.

-x-

Since the last time he had seen Luna, outside in the frozen grey dawn light, she had somehow managed to change her clothes again – and whereas before she’d looked a drawn, tired mess in jeans and a plain blouse, she was now in her typical shades of white and opal; a dress made of layers of wool and tulle, with thick patterned stockings going all the way down her legs – Noctis supposed that made sense, given how absolutely _freezing_ it was (he hadn’t really noticed it while in their room, given that he was tangled up with Prompto, who doubled not only as a body heat parasite but a personal space heater, but the moment they’d exited and walked through the open halls of the terrace that wound around the palace in order to avoid the crowds that would still be about, he’d _very much_ felt the chill hit him) – she looked cute, in a cuddly way, and he could confirm that firsthand because, the moment she saw them, Luna was up on her feet and running at them – colliding against Noctis’ chest but winding her arms around both him and Prompto; pulling the two of them flush against her.

It was then that Noctis realised – for all that Luna had always been this cool, collected calm presence in his life, older and wiser and just _smarter_ than him, always in control and never at a loss, she was only twenty two years old – and the attack on the temple, on _her_ , had to have shaken her – _frightened her_ – just as much as it had Noctis, if not more.

He hugged her back, squeezing her tight as he held her against him. She squeaked faintly, but didn’t let him pull back, and even laughed as Prompto locked his arms around them both.

They could have stood there for five minutes, or it could have been an hour – but when they finally separated, Luna smiled directly at Prompto, a genuine warmth and happiness on her face that kind of stunned Noctis – not because he thought that they didn’t like each other, but because her expression implied a familiarity he hadn’t realised they’d somehow come to hold – when had the two of them gotten so close?

“Are you feeling better?” She asked, her question addressed to Prompto, who shrugged, a little sheepishly, and ran a hand through his hair – a nervous tic he’d had for as long as Noctis had known him.

“Much better,” he said. “Since I doubt I’m going to get the opportunity – could you actually thank him for me?”

Luna laughed. “Sure,” she said. “No guarantees that he’ll be happy about it, though.”

Noctis just imagined the _look_ Ravus would have on his face if Luna were to tell him that ‘Noctis’ commoner friend’ wanted to ‘thank him,’ and grinned. “I will,” he said. “I’ll be _very_ happy about it. Do it, Luna.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling. “You’re incorrigible,” she said.

“And I’m _hungry_ ,” Prompto said, and peered around Luna to look at the table she’d been sitting at before they’d entered the room. “Are those pancakes I smell?”

“Ah – yes,” Luna said, and blinked as Prompto was just _gone_.

“Never get between Prompto and food,” Noctis advised. “He doesn’t really get hungry a _lot_ , but when he does, Lady help you if you’re in his way.”

Amusement showed clearly on her face as she looked at him. “Speaking from experience, are you?”

“A little,” Noctis confessed. “And I know it doesn’t look it, but his teeth are _sharp_.”

Something faltered briefly in Luna’s expression – a flicker of darkness moving across her eyes – but it was there and gone so fast Noctis had no way of knowing if it was real or imagined, and before he could question her on it, she was at his side and grasping his hand, dragging him towards the table where Prompto was already chewing down pancakes with a desperate, single minded intensity – he didn’t even look up or acknowledge them in any way as they sat down beside and across from him.

“Well, we’d better get eating too, then,” Luna said. “Otherwise Prompto will eat everything and I’ll have to cook something else for us, which means it’ll take even longer for the two of you to get out of here.”

Noctis blinked at Luna from over his first mouthful of pancakes just as he was about to put it in his mouth, and paused, before eyeing the pancake speared on his fork with a wary gaze. “ _You_ cooked this?” He asked suspiciously, and poked at it.

Luna rolled her eyes, and very pointedly took a large bite herself. “Of course I did,” she said. “It’s Cosmolatry. It isn’t like there’s anyone in the kitchen waiting to take my orders.” She looked over at Prompto. “They taste fine, right?”

He shot her a thumbs up and nodded, before swallowing down what he had in his mouth and saying, “Probably better than anything I could cook up, Lady Lunafreya.”

“ _Luna_ ,” she chided, just as Noctis mumbled ‘ _yeah but that’s really not saying much, is it?_ ’

Under the table, Prompto kicked him as he offered Luna a smile. “Right, sorry,” he said. “I keep forgetting.”

Luna pouted. “You say that, but I doubt Noctis ever got so much as a ‘Your Highness’ out of your mouth.”

Prompto shrugged, and the tines of his fork scraped against ceramic as he placed his cutlery down on his empty plate. “Well, I guess I just respect you more than I do Noct.”

Luna’s face broke into a wide smile – even if she tried to hide it by ducking her head down and focusing on her plate he could _see_ the way her cheeks puffed up – and Noctis tried very hard not to feel ridiculously insulted. He _knew_ Prompto was kidding.

And besides – he knew the perfect way to get him to shut up.

“Once we’re married,” he said blandly, “I’m going to make sure there’s a law in place that makes it so that no one can address you by anything but your title, _Duke Argentum_.”

Prompto paused, as did Luna, and they both sent him wide eyed looks – Prompto’s one of ‘betrayal’ mixed with a semi-serious fear of _you’re not_ actually _going to do that, are you?_ ; Luna’s just…shocked.

 _Oh_. Noctis winced.

“You – the two of you are seriously getting married, then?” She asked, looking absolutely flummoxed.

“Yeah,” Noctis said quietly, trying to gauge just what it was that Luna was feeling behind her pale, frozen shock. “It – the proposal itself may have been an accident, but I really _do_ love Prompto.”

Luna shook her head. “No, I know that,” she said, shades of _duh_ infusing her voice. “That would be obvious to anyone who’s spent five minutes in the same room as the two of you. I just meant – you’re both only eighteen, you know?” She peered at the both of them with a serious stare (the effect was somewhat belied by the fact that she was still eating pancakes as she did so). “You’re young, so…marriage? Maybe dating would be better first.”

Uncertainty suddenly filled Noctis alongside anxiety – Luna was, after all, a lot smarter than he was – but then, next to him, Prompto shrugged.

“Essentially, we have,” he pointed out. “Just…sans the making out, and stuff.”

Faintly, Luna cracked a grin, and Noctis mouthed ‘ _and stuff_ ’ to himself in disbelief as Prompto continued on:

“I was already planning to spend the rest of my life by Noct’s side, anyway,” he said. “Like, sure, I didn’t expect marriage to play a part in that, unless I was going to be his best man – but anything that lets me just _stand_ by him, always…I’m fine with it.”

The warmth from earlier was back, only about one thousand times stronger, and Noctis was hit with the sudden urge to just _kiss_ his adorable idiot.

So he did.

Prompto tasted like pancakes, he thought as he pulled back, and noted that both he and Luna were right – her cooking actually wasn’t all that bad.

“Aww,” Luna said, and when he looked over at her when he reached for the dish in the centre of the table to dish himself up some food of his own, he saw that she was watching the two of them with sparkles in her eyes. “You two are _adorable_. I better get a wedding invite.”

“Like the Nif’s are going to let you go into Insomnia,” Noctis pointed out gloomily, some of that fuzzy warmth draining into the heat of anger as he thought on that fact, on just how _trapped_ Luna was. “After all, once you’re behind the Wall, what reason would you have to leave?”

Luna scowled at him, and kicked him from beneath the table. “It’s the thought that counts,” she said. “And I expect you to be thinking of me on your special day. If I don’t get an invite then I’ll curse your marriage – and you’ll end up being hitched to someone who dies before you ever reach the altar.”

Her tone was clearly teasing, and Prompto found it funny because he was laughing (when he’d been uncharacteristically silent since Noctis had kissed him, like the show of affection outside of their private room and in front of someone so important to Noctis had just stunned him) but Noctis could only stare in disbelief, because _Ifrit’s fire, Luna_.

“That’s dark, Luna,” he pointed out. “Also, very specific. Should I be scared?”

Luna waved him off with a laugh. “You should have seen your _face_ just then,” she said. “You looked scared, like you thought I was going to call up a helpful Messenger to smite you down, or something.”

It was, of course, at that moment that Gentiana, with some superbly impeccable timing, chose to enter the room.

Noctis shot Luna a suspicious look and she absolutely _lost_ it – Prompto glancing between the three others in the room confused, while Gentiana simply looked as serene as ever.

“Prince Noctis,” she said. “I have moved your luggage to your car, and prepared the car itself for you. Whenever it is that you are ready to leave, it is waiting for you.”

Prompto shot Gentiana a look of thanks, but he didn’t really know any better – Noctis looked at Gentiana, all timeless elegance and clean, immaculate robes of gilt and silk-satin and…worried. Messenger or not, guardian and guide and holder of knowledge beyond human ken or not, she just did not look like someone Noctis would trust with a car – or, rather, like someone that _Ignis_ would trust with a car.

“Thank you,” he said robotically, and sent Luna a look that screamed for help. “I’ll just – I’m just going to check and make sure you got everything.” He sent a questioning look Prompto’s way, and Prompto just waved him off –

“I’ll be fine here with Lady Lunafreya for a while,” he said. “Go on, make Ignis proud.”

He nodded, and pushed back from the table to leave the room quickly – he almost expected Gentiana to follow him, just so she could loom over his shoulder and arch her eyebrows in that particular way everyone in Tenebrae could apparently do when he just realised that his worry was for nothing, but she just stepped aside and let him go.

The door swung shut behind him with a _click_ and for a moment he just stood in the hall, a strange sort of apprehension beginning to swirl in his gut as he looked at that closed door and was just filled with dread.

 _Was it really okay to leave Prompto like that?_ He shook his head – cleared his mind of all stupid, suspicious thoughts. It was Luna and _Gentiana_ – nothing was going to happen. Sure, if it had been _Ravus_ alone with Prompto, he would have been worried – though that had actually been a thing that had already happened, apparently, and without bloodshed…so, there was really no reason to feel as ill at ease as he did as he made his way out to the chilly garage where the car had been stored.

He shivered as he walked his way through paths that would have to be cleared, later on in the day – even on Titan’s day, one of the mildest, Shiva’s brief winter brought snow to the continent, and it was taking almost all of his concentration not to place a foot wrong and just _slip_.

Focusing on _that_ – on keeping himself upright and not on the ground – his worry was pushed to the back of his mind – where he couldn’t think of it any longer.

 _Prompto will be fine_ , he told himself.

|[-O-]|

The moment the scent of pancakes had hit Prompto when he’d walked into the room Lady Lunafreya – _Luna_ – had called them down to for breakfast, he’d realised just how _hungry_ he was. Starving, in fact – and it occurred to him, after Noctis had left the room, and he was still eating after pulling Noct’s plate in front of him, that maybe – that wasn’t exactly normal. Yes, he was pretty much like any other teenage boy – he got hungry, a _lot_ – but not like this.

Luna was watching him, and she seemed surprised, too. “What…what happened last night,” she said. “Does it expend a lot of energy?”

Prompto blinked. “What happened last night has never happened before,” he said honestly, shoulders tense. “Hopefully, it will never happen again.”

Over his head, Luna and Gentiana exchanged glances – “What?” He asked. “What is it?”

Luna looked back at him, with hesitance and a terrible sympathy. “You knew this could happen?” She asked quietly, and Prompto frantically shook his head _no_.

“No, I –” Lady Lunafreya held up one hand for a gesture for silence, and Prompto bit down on his tongue – ignored his burning need to explain and defend himself (but from what, he didn’t know).

“I simply meant, you – you already seemed to know that there is something…unusual about yourself,” she said carefully. “That’s how it seemed to me in the temple, and…Gentiana backed me up.” Her gaze was earnest, concerned, so Prompto nodded.

“I’ve always known that I was… _different_ ,” he said. “But – I never knew that what happened last night was a possibility, you have to believe me –”

“I do,” Luna said quietly, and he felt something clenched tight within him relax. “And what you did last night – it wasn’t all that bad, really, considering you saved my life, but…” she bit her lip. “Prompto, don’t you see? Last night – for you, last night was a paradigm shift.”

He tilted his head and squinted at her. “I know what that means,” he said slowly. “But I’m not sure I follow.”

Luna sent a glance the doors way, as if making sure Noctis wasn’t about to walk in any second – before turning back to Prompto and leaning closer across the table to grasp his hand, twining her fingers with his much like Noct had done earlier.

A chill made its way down Prompto’s spine, and he swallowed, gripping her hand tightly back as he braced himself for whatever it was she was about to say, focusing in on that one speck of warmth clasped around his hand.

“If – if you always knew you were _different_ , but that had never happened before…I can only presume that it’s a side effect of whatever was done to you – was it static, Prompto? Or was it evolutionary?”

His mouth was dry. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Over the years, has it – have _you_ – changed any? Has whatever it is that makes you different…has it gotten stronger?”

“I – I –” Prompto shook his head, and blinked frantically, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Luna hummed a soothing tune, and her thumb began to rub circles into his wrist. “Are you sure about that?” She asked, and when he looked at her, there was no fear in her eyes, her face – none of the horror she _must_ have been feeling, like Prompto was feeling, was evident.

So, he took a deep breath, summoned up as much peace of mind as he could, and said: “Yes.” His words, his tone, were blunt, but quiet…and slightly defeated. “I – they’ve – it’s gotten louder, over time. I’ve _never_ had anything like that happen to me before, I swear.”

“Have you spent much time around daemons?” Luna asked, and Prompto shook his head, _no_. “Well…that might be it? If it’s a situational trigger, maybe it’s daemons that set you off, and you’re right – it won’t happen again.”

Prompto stared at her. “And if I’m not?” he asked.

She blinked at him. “If you’re not what?”

“If I’m not _right_ ,” he clarified. “If I’m wrong – what then?”

She let out a long, low breath. “Then – if I’m right, and this was some sort of paradigm shift – you triggered something, Prompto, and it was either a one off incident…or, it was the beginning of a pattern.”

Cold fear flooded through him, and his grip on Luna’s hand was tight. She didn’t wince, though, just squeezed back equally as hard, offering herself to him as comfort and anchor. “How do I know?” he whispered. “How do I know which one it is?”

There was worry on her face – but no pity, thankfully. “I don’t know,” she said. “We _can’t_ know, at least not until…”

“Until something happens,” Prompto said. “Or – doesn’t happen. One way or another.”

Silently, Luna nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said, and she sounded miserably. “I wish I could help, but – Prompto, whatever it is that’s _different_ about you…I don’t think I can change it. That’s a task that’s not meant for me.”

“ _Wrong_ with me,” Prompto corrected. “That’s what you mean, right? And – you can’t _fix_ me.”

“What? No, no –” She all but lunged across the table to grasp at both his hands and drag them up against her, so they were pressed right to her chest, just over her heart – he could feel it beating through layers of skin and clothing. “ _Prompto_ ,” she said, and her eyes were as commanding as her voice in that moment as they stared directly at him, _through him_ – sharp and cutting and he _couldn’t look away_. “Prompto, don’t think of yourself like that. I can promise you, there is nothing about you that needs fixing. You’re _exactly_ the way you need to be.” Her smile was slightly watery. “The gods have told me so.”

He jolted in his seat, and _stared_ at her. “You’re not lying to me?” he asked quietly, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I swear, I would never.”

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I believe you.”

With one final smile, she relinquished the grip she held on his hands and sank back into her own seat across the table. “We should probably go get you to Noctis,” she said mournfully, after glancing at the clock. “The weather’s only going to get worse from here; you really need to get on the road and back to Insomnia before the worst of it hits.”

Prompto nodded in agreement – because Luna was right, but also because the room had suddenly become stifling the air of it weighted and pushing down on him after all of the words that had been exchanged between them in it. “Yeah,” he said, and pushed back from the table. Luna stood with him, and walked around to link arms with him, as if it was just a normal day and nothing was wrong.

“Let’s go, then,” she said, and led them out of the room – Gentiana was gone, Prompto realised, and marvelled at the fact he must have been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear her leave. “Noctis is probably already on his way back – if we hurry, we could meet up with him before he walks _all_ the way here.”

-x-

They _did_ manage to catch up to Noctis, who was more than a little frozen when they met him on the path, dusted all over with snow and the very definition of ‘windswept.’

“Dude,” Prompto said as Noctis paused once he had noticed them, blinking in mute surprise. “Frosted tips.”

Shivering, he tilted his head. “Does it look any good?” He asked, and there was laughter in his tone under the shiver.

Prompto shrugs. “It looks okay, I guess?”

Luna laughed, and she was shivering against Prompto’s side too. “How about we have this conversation _inside_ the garage?” she asked, and in unanimous agreement they all ran back the way Noct had come – when they finally got inside the garage and Prompto saw their car, he almost cried out of pure joy, because that was their luggage in there, which meant there were _coats_ in there.

He pulled his arm from Luna’s and lunged for the back door in order to rummage through the bags Gentiana must have placed there – to look for something warmer to wear over the top of his clothes, sure, but also to give Noct and Luna a quiet minute to themselves to say goodbye. Already the entire time they’d spent in Tenebrae had been hectic; there was no reason at all to ruin the farewell as well.

A little while later, and Prompto had found the coat he was looking for – but he continued to dig through the bags in an attempt to look busy for the sake of Noctis and Luna. So focused on looking like he was actually doing something was he that he didn’t even notice, with all of his enhanced senses, that Noctis had come up behind him until he put a hand on his shoulder.

With a yelp, he jumped about a foot in the air, and turned, scowling, to see Noctis staring at him with hand outstretched, a smile playing upon his lips. “I’ll get the car warmed up,” he said. “You go say goodbye to Luna – she’s asking for you.”

Prompto blinked as Noctis walked around the front of the car to open the door and slide into the driver’s seat – a second later and the engine was humming and exhaust was pouring out of the pipes at the back of the car. Prompto sighed, and made his way over to Luna – she was hugging herself tightly, as if trying to keep as much warmth as she could pressed up against her, but even though she was shivering pretty much constantly, she smiled at him, and held her arms out away from her, open for a hug.

Even though only three days earlier he could never have even imagined so much as _looking_ at the Lady Lunafreya, let alone hugging her, he returned it without thinking – and he barely reacted when she stood up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear: “Gentiana cleaned your guns; they’re underneath the passenger seat in the car.”

He paused, then nodded slowly, before withdrawing.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For everything.” _For understanding._

Her smile was brilliant – a sight that he seared into his mind so he would never forget it. “I’ll make sure to check you out on Sensa,” she said. _What else are friends for?_

Prompto winced a little. “Ah, Sensa,” he remembered. “Yeah, _there’s_ a place I might be avoiding for a little while.”

Luna laughed. “Poor things,” she teased. “Maybe I’ll release, like, a press statement or something. Say the gods are in favour of your match.”

Prompto blinked at her. “ _Are_ they?” He asked, genuinely curious.

She winked. “That’s for me to know,” she said. “You can just keep guessing.” She gave him a little shove in the direction of the car, and made a shooing motion. “Go on, then,” she said. “Time’s a-wasting.”

Prompto smiled at her softly. “Goodbye, Luna,” he said.

She shook her head. “Not goodbye,” she said firmly. “This is…just a farewell, so – not goodbye, so much as ‘until we next meet.’”

He nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “Until next time, then.”

She held her hand up, and waved as he made to open the passenger door.

“Until next time,” she said.

|[-O-]|

A few hours on the road, and Noctis was honestly beginning to regret leaving Tenebrae at all.

The weather was horrible, visibility low enough that he was sure Ignis would be having _kittens_ if he knew that Noctis was driving in it, and most of all it was _cold_. They had the heating on in the car turned up as far as it would go, but that didn’t change the fact that somehow, the very air in the car was infected with a chill that was made to seep down to the marrow of bones.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, and turned to Prompto, who was sitting just as tense and alert as he was – watching out the front window with an intensity that would have been hot at any other time (and in fact, some stupid part of his brain became dedicated to wondering just _how_ they could get Prompto to turn that look on _them_ at some later date, because _sweet Lady_ ) for any hint of danger – daemons, broken tree branches, other idiots out driving in the weather. “Hey – are there any places near here where we could stop until this storm dies down?”

Prompto barely even looked at him. “How am I supposed to know?”

Noctis suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “You _have_ a phone,” he pointed out. “ _Use it_.”

It was perhaps as sign of just how uneasy they both were feeling that Prompto didn’t so much as argue in anyway – not even a mock protest designed to tease him like he half-expected. He simply pulled his phone out of his pocket and began typing search terms into his CPS app, gaze and attention wavering between his phone’s screen and the windscreen as Noctis continued to drive down the road.

“There’s a bed and breakfast a little ways down the road,” he said finally. “I mean, they’ll be closed because it’s Cosmolatry, but I doubt whoever owns it would turn people away in _this_ weather.”

“If they do, we’ll just have to force our way in,” Noctis said grimly, and Prompto stared at him. “What?” He asked. “It’s not like I _like_ the idea – but I don’t particularly like the idea of _freezing to death_ , either.”

Prompto grimaced, but acquiesced the point with a shrug. “I guess,” he said, and looked back out of the front window – and stiffening in his seat. “Noct, look out –”

|[-O-]|

For one single, brief moment, the world was all _heat_.

Prompto wasn’t stupid enough to sink into it, though – because this wasn’t warmth, not really – no, it was adrenalin, and it was pumping through him in a direct response to pain; the pain that had flooded through him as the car had collided with that thing – whatever it had been – that Noctis hadn’t been fast enough to drive around or brake for.

The cold sucked as it swirled through the car – windows cracked and open and roof _sheered_ near completely off – but Prompto embraced it whole heartedly where it brought him back from that heat and granted clarity of mind – because Noctis, he saw, was completely out of it, slumped up against the steering wheel.

 _What was that thing?_ He thought, and tried to shift out of his seat to get a better look around, see if Noctis was okay – when his entire body stalled, and he glanced down to see what it was that was stopping him from moving.

His stomach lurched, and he regretted eating as many pancakes as he had – because impaled right through him was a twisted piece of metal that he could only guess had come from the car; careful investigation revealed that it hadn’t, in fact, gone through him completely – it was just buried an inch or two into his stomach and pinning him to his seat.

What had his head spinning and breath coming short, though, was the fact that there was no blood – or at least, there wasn’t any blood in a way he would have _hoped_ –

 _Black_ , he thought, and hysterical laughter bubbled up in his throat. _My blood is_ black.

It definitely hadn’t always been that way – he’d cut himself shaving and tripped over his own feet onto cement more than enough times to know that when his skin broke, he bled red, just like everyone else.

Luna had been right, then – given the black blood and the suddenly _underwhelming_ amount of pain considering how severe the injury actually was – a paradigm shift; and whatever it was in Prompto that had made him different had intensified, removing him even further from any humanity he had ever actually had.

That wasn’t important, though – no, in that moment, what was important was that if he didn’t do something they were both going to freeze to death, and he didn’t actually have any clue of how badly _Noctis_ was injured – if _he_ had a twisted bar of metal stabbed into him, Prompto doubted he would be doing as well as he himself was, for a given definition of ‘well.’

Groaning, and trying not to think on it too hard, Prompto gripped the metal just above where it had entered him – it jarred inside him, cutting him when he placed his hands on the cold steel, and he swore out loud, lips bared into a snarl as his mind went red alert into panic mode – apparently ambient pain was one thing, he could take that, but active pain – the sensation of a foreign object slicing through flesh and skin into muscle and grating against organ and bone as he tried to pull and twist it out of him – that was the limit, and for the first time since he’d lost it in the temple, his screamers made themselves known, screaming with him in a wailing chorus; they liked pain, sure, but not _his_ – because Prompto’s pain _was_ their pain.

And still, the metal _wasn’t coming out_.

Breathing hard, he slumped back into his seat – couldn’t help it, all of his strength leaving him at once as pain continued to rack his body and he _forced_ himself not to curl around the wound in his gut like he wanted to; considering the fact that he was still impaled, managing to force the metal deeper into his body did _not_ seem like a great idea.

Heat flooded him, again, and he shakily sighed at the idea that his body was going to press him to the breaking point all in order to chance surviving when he realised –

 _This wasn’t adrenalin_.

No, the heat that filled him then – it wasn’t adrenalin, it was something completely different; darker, _sentient_ – the presence, the same one that had made him go wild in the temple.

He swallowed, because that heat – the presence – it was just hovering. _Watching_. It wasn’t doing anything else – it was waiting to see what he was going to do.

 _Offering_.

( _The beginning of a pattern_ , Luna had said, without any idea of just what it was she was talking about – but _oh_ , how she had hit the nail directly on the head –

Because power was a slippery slope, and sometimes having that temptation there, that _option_ – the fastest, easiest way out –

Well.

It’s easy to slip up then, isn’t it?)

His first instinct was a solid, undebatable _no_ – he’d lived with the presence and the screamers all his life, he _knew_ they couldn’t be trusted –

But they didn’t want _him_ dead. And the night before – they’d taken his body on a wild, bloody rampage, but they’d only torn apart the daemons. They hadn’t so much as _touched_ Luna, though that _could_ have just been Prompto taking back the reins of his body at just the right time –

He swallowed, and apologised to every god and goddess he could think of, and prayed he was making the right decision – that both he and Noctis would survive this.

And then he reached out to the presence…and warmth engulfed him.

|[-O-]|

When Noctis woke up, he was warm.

He was also in pain, but, well – that didn’t matter as much as the blankets surrounding him, and the mattress underneath him that he could just _sink_ into, or the arm thrown over his side that was holding him tight to the source of the warmth –

Wait. Arm?

He blinked open protesting eyes to a plain cream ceiling – not the palace back home and not Tenebrae, then – pushed himself up into a sitting position to see what looked like just a cheaply furnished unit; that bed and breakfast Prompto had mentioned?

And then he remembered what had happened, just after that – and panic flooded him; he threw off the blankets to swing his feet down to the floor, shivering as the chill air of the room hit his bare legs –

A hand wrapped around his forearm, and he paused, looking over his shoulder to see Prompto, half asleep, staring at him disgruntled.

“’S cold,” he yawned. “Lay back down and bring the blankets with you.”

Relief flooded through Noctis and he just slumped in relief, even as the movement of his body made him wince. “No, Prompto, don’t go back to sleep,” he said, and put a hand on his shoulder to shake him back to the land of the conscious and living. “What _happened_?”

Prompto blinked at him. “You crashed the car, dude,” he said. “Ignis is going to be _pissed_.”

“Yes, but – what did we hit?” Noctis asked, bewildered. “And how did we get _here_?”

“I have no idea what we hit, except that it was _something_ ,” Prompto said. “And I carried you here – with the luggage that survived. Turns out it wasn’t even a full mile away, and I run more than that daily, so – not too hard. Just cold. Really, _really_ cold.”

Noctis gaped at him. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged. “We both are – some bruising and some scrapes, but that’s about it. Mrs Leann – that’s the old woman that runs this place – she checked us both over when I dragged our sorry butts to her door. She says we’re lucky, and we’re welcome to stay as long as we need until we recover.” He frowned. “I think we gave her a heart attack when she says us – she probably thought we were ghosts; there was a lot of blood.”

Noctis’ head was swimming – he wasn’t sure if he really understood fully what was going on, but he fought through the pain and said, “Blood?” he looked over Prompto frantically. “I thought you said we were fine.”

Prompto, the absolute madman, _laughed_. “We _are_ ,” he said, and pushed himself up so that he was reclining on one elbow, face just below Noctis’ as he reached out to brush gently across his hairline. “And besides, it was _your_ blood – head wounds bleed a lot.”

Startled, Noctis automatically reached up with his own hand to feel the area Prompto was trailing his fingers across – the rough texture of gauze met his fingertips and he blinked.

“You hit your head on the steering wheel,” Prompto offered. “Also, even though _we_ lucked out, the car is totally destroyed. We’re kind of definitely going to have to call Insomnia for help.”

Again, Noctis blinked – and let his hand drop from his forehead to reach for Prompto as he realised – they _both_ could have died. He’d been stripped down, obviously, dressed only in his boxers and a clean shirt, but give the pain that was still throbbing through him he couldn’t have been given any painkillers or drugs unless Mrs Leann also had IV drips set up at her bed and breakfast – so the fact that he’d remained out cold throughout _all_ of that meant he’d been _out_ , completely. If Prompto hadn’t stayed conscious – if the car seat had jammed in a way that left him trapped or his energy had failed him while he was trying to drag Noctis’ own deadweight through a near mile of snow – they would have _died_. They would have _frozen to death_.

Prompto would be _dead_.

He swallowed, and then his hand was at the back of Prompto’s neck and was urging him _up_ , and they were kissing like they had been that morning – only there was an element of urgency to it that there hadn’t been there earlier.

He pulled back slightly for air when some of that urgency had drained – but whereas laying back down and sleeping for a few more hours curled up with Prompto sounded _really_ good to him, apparently Prompto himself had a few other ideas – his lips didn’t leave Noctis’ skin, instead trailing down from his lips to press lightly against his neck until he reached his collarbone –

Then, he used _teeth_ , and the noise Noctis made was _inhuman_ as he gasped, fingers at the back of Prompto’s head twisting into claws that clutched at his hair like a lifeline.

Prompto looked up at him with dark eyes, and Noctis felt himself tremble on the edge – one way or another, if he chose to step into that freefall or not, after tonight, everything between him and Prompto would change.

“Lay back down,” Prompto repeated, but there was an extra layer to his tone this time that had Noctis shuddering, anticipation filling him as hands ran up and down his sides. “And bring the blankets with you.”

He was quick to obey, tugging the quilt haphazardly over the both of them just in time to avoid the chill air of the room hitting his bare skin as Prompto tugged up the hem of his shirt to press a hand flat against his stomach. Noctis blinked as the world around him _shifted_ , and then he was on his back with Prompto pressed right up against his side, leaning over him.

“This okay?” he asked, smiling, and Noctis nodded.

“Better than okay,” he confirmed, and tilted his head back for a kiss.

Prompto’s open mouth met his, and when his tongue traced the shape of Noctis’ teeth along his lips he finally _got_ why kissing was such a big deal to all of his old classmates – or at least, why so many of them had risked demerit points by sneaking off to make out with Prompto; because kissing Prompto, specifically, was kind of amazing.

There was a faint metallic taste that had Noctis scrunching his nose up – but soon enough, all of his senses were just _overwhelmed_ with Prompto that it didn’t really matter with how his head was swimming.

He wasn’t really sure what to do with his hands, which had somehow migrated back to Prompto’s hair without his permission when he wasn’t paying attention, but Prompto didn’t seem to mind – and given the low growl he let out when he accidentally caught on a knot, he actually seemed to be feeling the opposite of against that.

That growl, though – it was something Noctis had never once heard come out of his friend, not even in any of the teenage fantasies he would never admit to having had about him. It just seemed like a sound that would be impossible for Prompto to produce, so he’d never really thought on it. It was incredibly hot, however, and that taken with the vivid image in Noctis’ mind of the intensely focused look Prompto had had fixed on his face earlier –

He swallowed as the warmth coiling up inside him, low in his gut, stoked up into something _hotter_ – and the approving noise that Prompto made just made everything so much better.

His hands on Noctis’ side were driving him crazy, and he pulled back from the kiss to demand that Prompto do something – _anything_ – with them – but the moment they parted, Prompto was back on his neck, and with a whine it occurred to Noctis that maybe they had discovered one of his sweet spots.

He shuddered, and automatically tilted his head back to give Prompto better access – there were _teeth_ in the kisses he was laying along the column of his throat, closer to sucking bites than anything, and Noctis felt himself harden as Prompto shifted so that instead of lying alongside him, he was on top of Noctis, his legs hooked over Noctis’ and his weight pressing him down into the mattress.

“ _Prompto_ ,” he choked out, and Prompto hummed out a questioning sound along his throat – a move that had his eyes rolling near back into his head.

“Yes?” Prompto asked, and his voice was low, muffled – rough in a way that made Noctis glad he was already lying down on a bed.

But his voice – it was gone, he simply couldn’t talk anymore, so he answered the only way he could – he rolled his hips, up against Prompto, and felt him _still_ above him.

“ _Oh_ ,” Prompto said. “ _Oh_ ,” and there was a grin in his voice, Noctis could hear it, and he had about three seconds to be wary of whatever it was Prompto was planning before his mind blanked –

Pulling back from his neck altogether, Prompto sat up – there was a smirk on his face but what drew Noctis’ eyes to his lips were how pink they were, how swollen, how bitten – and then he _rolled_ his hips, not like Noctis had but _sharply_ , completely in control, and a whimper broke from Noctis’ throat as the heat rolled through him in time with Prompto’s motions.

“Goddess –” he choked out brokenly, and then Prompto was right up in his face, one hand coming up to cup his chin and hold him in place so he couldn’t look away.

“Don’t call for her,” he said, and if Prompto had asked for the world itself in that moment, Noctis wouldn’t have been able to say no. “Not Eos, or Etro, or any of the Six – right now, Noctis, there’s only me. Okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he said. “Yes, _Prompto_ , pl _ease_.”

“Please what?” he asked, and traced the shape of Noctis’ lips – still damp – with his thumb.

Noctis didn’t even know what he was doing anymore, not really, but – “Touch me,” he gasped out. “ _Please_ –”

Prompto didn’t respond – simply pressed a hard kiss to Noctis’ mouth, swallowing his words before he could finish speaking him; the hand that had held him firm in place trailed down – down the line of kisses and hard bites Prompto had left on his neck and shoulders that Noctis could already feel blooming into bruises, down his chest and stomach until he reached the band of his boxers – and then it sat there for a while, nails scraping the skin just above the elastic and dipping just below it to tease the sensitive skin around the area that Noctis actually wanted him to teach.

He moaned out a protest, any words he could have come up with muffled by Prompto’s lips and tongue, and that was when Prompto’s hand went down, _finally_ down, to cup around Noctis’ cock – not fully hard, yet, but approaching it; he gripped it tight and Noctis _whimpered_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Prompto pulled away from him to snarl, his forehead pressed to Noctis’ own – but Noctis wasn’t complaining that he’d moved back; was, in fact, grateful for the reprieve of multiple sensations as Prompto began to work his thumb in circles over the head of Noctis’ cock, fingers wrapped around the shaft moving up and down and shifting pressure as they squeezed him, hard.

Heat was building up more and more inside of him, coiling to a breaking point inside his gut, and Noctis knew he wasn’t far from being just thrown completely off of that edge and losing it entirely – Prompto’s nails scraping along cock and chest driving him mad alongside the harsh, panting breaths that Prompto was panting against his neck like _he_ was being the one worked over –

And, _oh_ , that was a _thought_ , Prompto like this, like he was now, being completely unmade with only his hands and his mouth, keening and whining and _wanting_ –

He moaned, and felt the edge drop of beneath him – he tensed, and thrust his hips up automatically into Prompto’s hand, calling out his name as he came – he turned, and _shuddered_ into Prompto’s chest, each exhale leaving him at a high pitched gasp as he came down from the warm fuzz of a post orgasm high, made all that more heated by the fact that it had come from someone else’s hand, not his own.

He was vaguely aware of Prompto pulling his hand out from his boxers – and had enough of a presence of mind to feel at least slightly embarrassed of the mess he’d likely just made in his underwear; an orgasm hadn’t actually hit him so hard in _years_ – but most of his mind was just a happy, warm glow as his heartbeat and breathing returned to a somewhat normal pace – and when he finally blinked his eyes open and returned to the real world, it was to the sight of Prompto with his head tilted right back against the pillows, pressed up nearly right against the cheap wood of the headboard, sweat shining a sheen on his pale skin and every line, every muscle in his body tense, _tight_ – Noctis’ mouth went dry as his eyes travelled down and he took in the whole truth of the picture before him; Prompto breathing hard with the pants he _had_ been wearing kicked off, one hand working himself furiously through his own underwear.

He swallowed, throat suddenly tight, and wondered if he should offer to help – kind of wanting to help – but also just wanting to _watch_ because Prompto had always been a beautiful work of art, but this was something entirely different; the sounds he was making, the way his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open and shut, the way his hair, damp, stuck to forehead and neck in a way that just screamed debauchery more than any innocent selfie could – whenever Noctis had fantasised about his friend before it had always been vaguely, with uncertainty close about every specific thing, but now –

Now, he _knew_ what Prompto sounded like when he moaned, what he tasted like, what he felt like when pressed up against him – it was all better than he could possibly have imagined, and watching as Prompto brought himself to the point of orgasm with wide eyes was just…the cherry on top, really, as every second, every moment and every image of it was just _burnt_ into his mind.

When he came, it was quiet – just a low, hissing exhale through his teeth and he was shuddering, and then limp, collapsing back against mattress and pillows, breathing hard and harsh into the otherwise silent room.

For a moment, they both just lay there, on the mattress that was – admittedly – too small for two fully grown men to fit on entirely comfortably – and the Prompto rolled over, and looked Noctis directly in the eyes.

There was red staining his cheeks, and Noctis knew he was probably blushing too as he forced himself not to duck his head – but he was also smiling, gently and softly, and Noctis reached to poke at him.

“Where did that come from, huh?” he asked, and Prompto knew _exactly_ what he was talking about, because his blush only grew, deeper and more red – he turned over completely so his face was buried in the pillow, but Noctis could see his ears burning red, too. “All that growling, and ordering me around – is this what you’re like with _all_ of your ‘conquests?’”

He made sure the teasing in his voice was obvious – he didn’t want Prompto thinking he was actually _upset_ for not noticing the massive crush Noctis had had on him for years and just continuing to go out with other person after other person – and Prompto just let out a low, keening whine.

“Shut up,” he said clearly, even if his voice was muffled by the pillow. “Just – shut up.”

Noctis laughed. “We’re alive,” he said, and rolled across the bed to press a light kiss to Prompto’s head. “And I love you.”

Hesitantly, Prompto poked his head out from where he’d buried it in cotton and feathers. “I –” He took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

Warmth suffused Noctis like the effervescent bubbling of champagne, and he blinked – he _honestly_ hadn’t expected Prompto to say that back to him, at least not yet. It was a nice surprise, though, and he smiled as he nuzzled into Prompto’s neck.

“We should probably shower before we sleep,” he mumbled. “We get a bathroom, right?”

“Yeah, these are all separate chateaus, we get our own kitchen, too.” Half-heartedly, Prompto pointed. “Showering separately, right?”

“Yeah,” Noctis laughed. “Otherwise, I don’t think either of us would actually end up clean.”

“You say that,” Prompto said, and then paused to yawn, “but you like, totally underestimate how damn tired I am.” He turned over, and squinted at Noctis. “I had to carry your lazy ass and _suitcases_ through snow. You’re kind of the opposite of _light_ , you know.”

Automatically, Noctis whacked out at his shoulder. “ _Rude_ ,” he said. And then he paused, as he realised – “You didn’t call anyone?”

Prompto blinked at him, and then shook his head. “I got us here, I made sure neither of us were bleeding internally, and then I stripped you of your snow soaked clothes and got us both undercovers to get warm. I knew we’d have to deal with it at _some_ point, but right then calling home didn’t seem like the most important thing, you know?”

Noctis nodded, because he honestly agreed – but he still bit at his lip, because his dad _would_ have expected to get a call by now – if not one about the whole marriage thing, then one telling him they were on the road back to Insomnia. And if he’d called Tenebrae to see if they were still there only to be informed that they _had_ left and then he was unable to contact them after _that_ –

He shook his head. No use worrying about it then; it would be best saved for the morning when his head was completely clear.

“If it’s cool with you, I’ll take first shower?” he asked, and when Prompto motioned for him to go ahead, he continued, “Text Luna that we’re okay, at least?”

Prompto shot him a thumbs up. “Will do,” he said. “Now, hurry up and get clean – I want to shower before this stuff dries.”

Noctis snorted. “And…maybe change the sheets?”

Prompto blinked, and then looked down and grimaced. “Yeah, actually,” he said, and slid out of bed. “There’s… _probably_ a linen cupboard around here somewhere.” He looked back over his shoulder and grinned at Noctis, still lying in bed. “Go get in the shower, Noct.”

For a moment after he left the room, Noctis just _basked_ in what had just happened – not just the sex, though that had been _amazing –_ but the fact that Prompto _loved_ him. No confusion, no miscommunication – just clear and undeniable, a fact: _I love you_.

The grin on his face was probably dopey, but he couldn’t help it as he made his way to the bathroom Prompto had indicated, those three words echoing about his head –

 _I love you_.

|[-O-]|

It was with a deep sense of regret and an aching side that Prompto woke up the next morning.

He’d healed – where the bar had stabbed into him, twisting and cutting, he’d _healed_ , near instantaneously – but a pulsing ache had persisted in the spot where he’d been run through all night, and only the fact that Mrs Leann, apparently trained in emergency first aid because she’d felt it necessary as the owner of a ‘place of hospitality,’ had confirmed that he was not internally bleeding anywhere had stopped him from panicking.

Well, that, and Noctis.

A smile played about his lips as he just laid back and _remembered_ , in vivid detail, everything that had happened the night before – he hadn’t expected it, but he wasn’t complaining, especially because of the fact that regardless of what Noctis (ever the optimist) wanted, the King was probably going to kill him once they were back in Insomnia – or at the very least banish him to one of the outermost regions of Lucian territory.

Eventually, he just _couldn’t_ lie in bed anymore – as nice as the cuddling and the warm snuggling was, he just _wasn’t_ Noctis, able to sleep until noon; once he was awake he was _awake_ and he _needed_ to be out of bed before he went _mad_ from just lying still.

Normally, his go to activity of the morning would be Sensa, and then breakfast…but since Sensa was probably still a frightening hell realm to the likes of him he instead made his way to the kitchen and started to brew a cup of coffee – there wasn’t actually much in the cupboards, given that over Cosmolatry Mrs Leann hadn’t expected any guests and so had done away with the perishables, but instant coffee there was, so Prompto put on the kettle and then looked through the pantry to see if there was any long life milk stored there – he could see there was cereal, and he wasn’t big on cooked breakfasts.

Unfortunately, there was not, so instead he pulled out the bulk-buy bag of ‘just add water’ oats and dragged it to the bench – he wasn’t going to be able to open that on his own; were there maybe a pair of scissors somewhere –

There was a knife – right on the draining board, beside the sink.

For a moment, Prompto could only stare.

The knife was sharp, he realised – the point of it nearly invisible and the cutting edge of it shining silver in the morning’s cold light.

Noctis was still in bed – sleeping until noon as was his habit. Short of the apocalypse, nothing was waking him up just yet.

He blinked, and considered the knife’s edge once more.

 _How far can I push this?_ He wondered. The incident the day before had been terrifying – but it had been _useful_ , too. He’d never really thought of the presence, the screamers, born of the daemon inside of him as anything even _remotely_ positive, but the fact of the matter was – the only reason he was alive, that _Noctis_ was alive, was because of it.

But…if he was ever going to rely on it, in _any_ way – he’d need to know his limits; just _how far_ he could actually push himself if it came down to it. It’s exactly what Cor would tell him, were he there – _know your limits so you don’t surpass them, kid_.

He took a deep breath. _If I stabbed myself, right now_ , he thought. _Would I heal?_

Almost immediately, he dismissed the thought – one incident of superhuman healing in a lifetime did _not_ a pattern make, even if Luna was right about the whole paradigm shift thing – but while _stabbing_ was out of the picture…

One small slice, just to make _absolutely certain_ couldn’t hurt, now could it?

He grimaced, sucking in a breath as he put the sharp edge of the blade to the area of skin just below his shoulder – no major veins and no reason for anyone to be paying attention to it; also he’d just been in a car accident the day before – it was perfect.

He cut swift and clean and _deep_ – not as deep as the wound yesterday, not deep enough that he would need stitches, but _deep_ – and apparently whatever it was that had numbed the pain the day before was _gone_ because that had _burnt_ like a _bitch_.

He hissed, and flinched, and scrambled not to drop the knife as his entire arm was suddenly on fire, the pain from the cut spiralling and radiating downwards. _Right,_ he thought. _Never doing that again_.

And then he looked down, and was greeted with something both relieving…and surprising.

 _Red_ , he saw. Where the day before there had been black, now it was red that was flowing from the cut – and flowing pretty freely, too, whereas the wound in his stomach had bled sluggish and slow, clotting and trying to close even as he _widened_ it by shifting the metal around in his guts.

It…didn’t make any sense. But, it did answer his question – whatever was going on with him was far from reliable, and so it shouldn’t be relied on to save _anyone’s_ life – not even his own.

And honestly, that was relieving. If it had turned out that some aspect of whatever it was he was becoming could be of _use_ to Noctis, could keep him safe – then he would have _had_ to have used it. No choice involved in that – if he could help Noctis, in anyway, then he _would._ The fact that this had been taken out of his hands was a huge weight of his shoulders.

The kettle boiled, and he smiled as he made himself his coffee – he’d drink it, and then before he made breakfast and woke Noct up, he’d clean up the mess he’d made – both of the kitchen, and himself.

|[-O-]|

Noctis woke up to a hand on his shoulder and a weight at the edge of his bed – he blinked open protesting eyes to see Prompto leaning over him and, still half asleep, automatically went for a kiss.

A smile on his lips – Noctis could _feel_ it – Prompto obliged him, and when he pulled away, Noctis frowned – felt a pout form on his own lips.

“What?” Prompto laughed, amusement lighting up his eyes, and Noctis’ pout only grew.

“You taste like coffee,” he complained, and Prompto only laughed harder.

“Come on, out of bed,” he said. “I promise, no coffee for you – but there is breakfast, even if it’s just oats.”

Noctis grimaced, but didn’t complain, because he _knew_ – after breakfast, it would be time to face the music.

They’d have to call home, call Insomnia – and even if they were stuck out here until after Cosmolatry and Shiva’s winter broke, they’d have to call for _help_. If Prompto was telling the truth, and he had no reason _not_ to be, then the car had been completely totalled – they wouldn’t be getting back to the citadel if someone didn’t come pick them up.

He took a deep breath, and braced himself. “Oats will have to do,” he said, and smiled – reminded himself that he wasn’t alone – that Prompto was with him, and, more importantly –

That Prompto _loved_ him.


	7. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are we ready to finish this?
> 
> omg guys, i'm so sorry this took so long to get out. I think part of it was just reluctance to let go - of this fic, of this world, of this story and characters - and of you guys, the readers, who have been here on this journey with me this entire time. this fic has brought me followers, friends, and a freaking bard battle down in the comments, which created in turn a half joking poetry war tradition between @iskraeon and I. I think there have been three, now. I've won at least one of them.
> 
> but ah, yeah. this fic, tmwtoty. my most popular fic ever...and like, the longest thing I've ever posted. holy shit, guys. it just hit me. it's actually done.
> 
> I feel happy with this epilogue. there are side stories and a sequel planned, for tackling the more fluffy/plotty aspects of the series (aka the game proper), but for this chapter, i'm really really happy with where it ends. it's a conclusion, and the final words of the epilogue echo a huge theme of what's to come with the rest of _we are made of star-stuff_.
> 
> speaking of!!! if you haven't subscribed to the series yet, do that, or subscribe to me here or follow me on twitter or tumblr to get alerted when new fics go up!
> 
> (also I've written a bunch of stuff since the last update so maybe just go check out my fic repertoire idk maybe you'll find something you like *shameless self plug*)
> 
> for reals tho, thank you for coming on this journey with me. I honestly don't think I ever would have pushed this so far if not for you guys. and a huge thanks to those who stuck by me when this was originally going to have to parts and were raising eyebrows at me as I kept changing chapter amounts and shouting 'JUST ONE MORE I SWEAR AND THEN IT'S DONE.'
> 
> I seriously love y'all
> 
> and now, on to the end. _adieu_.

Listening to the sound of the phone ringing out was, quite possibly, one of the most terrifying things Prompto had ever experienced. Forget the disaster that was Cosmolatry, forget the mess that had been the Gala, forget the pain and fear of the car ramming straight into a near death crash – waiting for the King to answer his son’s phone call, _that_ was the where the real terror came from.

Noctis didn’t seem any more eager to be doing this than Prompto himself was – there was a grimace fixed on his face and he was drumming a frantic rhythm against his thighs with the fingers of his free hand.

The dial out tone stopped – a click, and then Prompto could hear the muffled tones of Regis Lucis Caelum echoing out, clipped to the point of positively frosty.

Noct’s grimace deepened, and he flicked his eyes up to meet Prompto’s, holding the phone against his shoulder. “You don’t have to stay here while we talk,” he whispered. “In fact, it’s probably better if you don’t – we could…” he sighed. “We could be at this a while.”

Prompto nodded, and offered Noct a smile he hoped didn’t look too much like a frown. The air in the room was just so _tense_ , almost doubled in ambient anxiety from the moment Noct had thumbed through his contacts to press down on his dad’s number that he honestly didn’t want to be in the room while Noctis got yelled at – because he knew, in the end, that he would be the one getting in trouble for this. Noctis was the _prince_ – he was just some commoner.

Some commoner that was putting off his own awkward call when he really shouldn’t be; with Noctis on the end of a line leading to King Regis, Cor definitely knew by now that they were awake and alive. He wouldn’t call Prompto himself, in case he was still with Noctis, but he would be totally pacing up and down, wearing a path into the carpets of the citadel and grinding his teeth as he waited for Prompto to call _him_.

And so, pulling out one of the wooden chairs placed around the small dining table in the kitchen, Prompto pulled his phone out of his pocket, ignoring the bubble in the corner of the Sensa icon that indicated he had about a million notifications waiting for him to look through them. Huh. Maybe, in the end, _that_ was the real horror here – not those waiting for them in the citadel back home, not the little chorus of screamers that had been mostly silent inside of him since the events of Cosmolatry, but _social media_.

A faint smile tugging at his lips now, he absentmindedly tapped his way to his contacts and pressed down on Cor’s number. He picked up after the tone had barely even rung out once – Prompto swallowed at the echoing silence that radiated down the line to him.

“Um,” he stalled. “Hi?”

“Hi,” Cor repeated flatly. “ _Hi_. That’s all you have to say?”

Prompto winced. “Just trying to figure out what to say when I have no idea what’s less or more likely to get me killed,” he said quietly.

“Not _killed_ , Prompto,” Cor hissed out, and the tension in his tone had Prompto sitting up straighter, frowning at his phone. “But the Peers are seriously pressing the King for _exile_ to one of the outer regions.”

Prompto swallowed, throat tight and mouth suddenly dry – the cold sweat that had broken out on his brow seeming to pull all moisture from his body. “They – can they actually do that?”

“Alone? No. But there are enough of them pushing for this that the King might just do it – especially if he thinks that separating you two would be for the best.”

“How would separating us be for the _best_?” Prompto tried to keep the snarl out of his voice as his lips curled up, but he could sense an alertness from the other end of the line that told him Cor had definitely heard it.

“Prompto,” he said slowly. “Forget the king and politics for a moment – are _you_ okay?”

There was such genuine concern in Cor’s voice that, after the stress and fear of the last few days built up on top of him, crushing him down under its weight, that tears pricked, hot and itchy, at Prompto’s eyes. A lump swelled up in his throat, and he swallowed a breath down through the pain of it.

“No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think I am.” He took in another deep breath, pressing a hand to his chest as if enough pressure could crush the pain growing inside him. He could trust Cor – he _could_. And more than that, next to Luna, he was the only person in the world who he could actually talk to about what had happened underneath the temple during the attack. “Cor, something _happened_ the other night.”

“What, kid?” Cor’s words were sharp, as were his tone – but he just sounded more worried than anything, so Prompto forced down the defensive words that had bubbled up on his tongue in response to them. “What happened?”

“I went like, full on daemon mode,” Prompto said, trying for a joking flippancy, even as his voice cracked around the words. “Used my teeth and everything.”

Cor let out a long breath through his nose. It echoed with static down the line as he sighed. “We always knew something like this was a possibility,” he pointed out. “Unfortunately. Have you kept up with your doses since then?”

“Doubled them,” Prompto confirmed. “Everything’s been pretty much _silent_ since then, anyway, but – that doesn’t change the fact that it happened. And, the car crash –”

“ _Car crash?_ ”

Prompto flinched back from the shout that echoed down the line, too loud for his sensitive hearing – and then registered the actual words that had been spoken, and winced. “Ah, yes,” he said. “There was a bit of an incident, which is coincidentally why we aren’t back in Lucis yet.” His voice shook with his nerves.

Cor sighed again. _I’m too damn old for this_ , Prompto could imagine him grumbling. “An incident?”

“Noct was fine except for a little head bump,” he said concisely. Cor had always liked info given to him straight up, like feedback reports, and it was admittedly a small piece of Niflheim that he’d never fully been able to grow out of – it had just been too firmly beaten into him, he supposed. “And I’m fine now, but during the accident I was impaled by at _least_ several inches of twisted steel, right through my stomach.”

“Right,” Cor said faintly, and wasn’t _that_ a new tone to hear in the Lord Marshall’s voice. “You said you’re okay now?”

“It healed,” Prompto said simply. “And it bled black.”

“Did the wound scar?” Cor’s voice was no-nonsense – compartmentalising, probably, like Prompto himself was; deal with what you can now and worry about the rest later. “And is your blood still black?”

“No scars to report as far as my eyes can see,” Prompto said. “Microscopes or camera might be able to pick up something different, but,” he grimaced. “If it comes down to it, I’d really rather not deal with lab equipment. And I checked this morning – bleeding red, and _that_ isn’t healing.”

“Please tell me you didn’t stab yourself like an idiot.”

“Just a shallow cut – it’s almost healed, but it’s definitely still there. Probably won’t scar.”

“…so you healed near instantaneously from an impalement, but are now having to deal with what is essentially a papercut in comparison with it not healing.”

Prompto leant forward, so his elbows were resting on the table’s hard surface. A quick glance and listen down the hall told him that Noct was still busy with his own call – he quickly turned his attention back to Cor. “I think it might have to do with the black blood,” he said, and paused. This next part would be…difficult, to talk about, if only because he himself almost genuinely couldn’t think about it without wanting to vomit. “When I went full on daemon mode…” he trailed off, unable to find the words.

“You said that you used your _teeth_.” Cor’s voice was sharp. “Prompto, did you –?”

He swallowed. “Eat them?” Convulsively, his hands clenched around the edge of the table, and his phone. “I mean, I sort of blacked out, so – I like, don’t really remember, but…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Ichor would have filtered through your system,” Cor said, voice lower, quieter than before – nearly a whisper. Prompto wondered if he was alone at his end of the line, or if he was simply standing in a corner of the same room King Regis and his council were doubtless in. “Maybe it’s for the best that you got impaled, then,” he said, and continued on before Prompto even had a chance to even _try_ and feel insulted. “Your body must have burnt through it healing that wound, so there isn’t any more lingering in you than what was already there.”

“So, basically,” Prompto began slowly, his mind working to put all the pieces together, “what you’re saying is that if I eat daemons – or ichor, at least – I’m briefly like, running with a super metabolism?”

“ _That isn’t an advocation to do so_ ,” Cor hissed. “Prompto. You _do not_ eat daemons.”

“Well, obviously,” Prompto said. “They taste awful.”

“ _Prompto_.”

“Also, who knows what long term effect taking in ichor would have? Best to _not_ , I think.” He paused. “Still. It’s worth knowing. Who knows when it could come in handy?”

“Never,” Cor said sternly, tone severe.

“You say that,” Prompto said quietly, “but if I hadn’t had ichor in my system yesterday, both Noctis and I would be dead. For me, I don’t mind so much, but – if it comes down to it, I’ll risk everything for Noct. I’ll risk _anything_. Even my humanity.”

“You’re too lovestruck for your own damn good, kid,” Cor sighed. “Look, I better get off this line – knowing Regis, I’m going to be the one sent to pick you up since you totalled your car, so I may as well head off now – I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Right,” Prompto said, and echoed Cor’s words back at him. “See you soon.”

|[-O-]|

Bitter frustration was pretty much all that Noctis was feeling by the time he _finally_ got off the phone with his old man, and he stamped down on those emotions of rage and annoyance as hard as he could before making his way to the kitchen, where Prompto had wandered off to. He didn’t deserve to deal with Noctis in a mood; this – _none of this_ – was his fault, not in anyway, so for the House of Peers to just be pinning it on him as if he was some sort of _gold digger_ – as if Noctis, as the Crown Prince, was incapable of making mistakes himself and then taking responsibility for them –

Well. It grated, that was all. Stung like rock salt packed into a festering wound, and _boy wasn’t that a mental image he was happy he’d supplied himself with_. He shook his head, and took several deep breaths, to centre himself before he went to go and sit with Prompto – they’d likely only have a few hours alone together, since Cor was already on his was to pick them up as his father had informed him, and he had no idea what his father planned to do once they were back at the citadel. Lock them up in separate rooms?

He forced a smile to his face as he walked to the kitchen, and it became almost entirely genuine once he saw Prompto – softening as he saw him fiddling with his phone, an instrumental track he faintly recognised playing out tinnily through the speakers, turned up too loud for the song _not_ to play through static.

“Aria, Maiden of Water,” he said as he slid into the seat across from Prompto. “It’s nice,” he reassured him, as Prompto jumped and made as if to turn the music off. “It’s not bothering me.”

“Something else is, though,” Prompto said, and reached out a hand to brush hair back from Noctis’ eyes, massaging his thumb across his forehead. “Your face is all scrunched up.” He leaned back in his chair, and Noctis silently mourned the loss of his touch. “Did your call go that bad?” His face was pensive, his gaze calmer than Noctis could manage at that moment.

“You know I don’t regret it, right?” He blurted out, and Prompto blinked. “I mean – obviously I regret how it happened, but…you know I don’t regret _you_ , right?”

A smile played about Prompto’s lips, and with the way he bit at them in a rather pathetic attempt to keep a straight face, Noctis couldn’t help but feel that he was laughing at _him_ – but he didn’t seem upset, so Noctis allowed himself to relax slightly. “Of course you don’t,” Prompto said, just as the faint, sweet sounds of a different set of strings began echoing out from his phone’s speaker.

“Calm Before The Storm,” Noctis said automatically, and Prompto’s answering grin was pure affection.

“And you call _me_ the nerd,” he laughed. “And dude – I don’t regret anything, either.”

“You _are_ the nerd,” Noctis shot back. “Comparatively. And it’s just – you say that _now_ , but once we’re back in Insomnia –” he jumped, startled, in his seat, and looked down to see a warm hand locked around his own. Looked up, to see Prompto leaning across the table – to him.

Their faces were nearly touching when Prompto spoke – his hair was nearly pure silver under the sunlight angling through the windows as it brushed up against Noctis’ skin, making him look like some ethereal creature out of a winter tale that _belonged_ in this frozen world, and this close up, Noctis could have sworn he saw flecks of green dotting the blue of his eyes. He swallowed. Prompto’s eyes flickered down briefly to track the movement, before they held his steady once more.

In the background, Melodies of Life began to play.

“Once we’re back in Insomnia,” Prompto said, speaking slow and low, his hand around Noctis’ moving to loop their fingers together, holding him fast, “nothing will change. Not for me.”

“You can’t know that,” Noctis said quietly – but he didn’t look away. “Once we’re home, everything will change.”

“Only if we _let_ it,” Prompto insisted. “Come on – it already took us so long to get _here_ , are you really saying you’re okay with letting a bunch of old guys back in the citadel tell us how to run our lives?”

“…no,” Noctis said finally. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

Prompto nodded, and his smile was nearly blinding. “Exactly,” he said. “There’s _always_ a way.”

As he leant in for a kiss, climbing up onto the table for better access to Noctis, letting go of his hands to cradle his face instead, his knee hit the screen of his phone, and the opening bars of a _vastly_ different song started playing out.

“ _Whoops_ ,” Prompto grinned, and Noctis held back a laugh to press a gentle kiss to his nose.

“Liberi Fatali,” he said, and it was Prompto’s turn to laugh – and to continue laughing, even as he pressed his open mouth to Noctis’. The shape of their lips against one another was awkward like that, and he was very aware of the hard edge of teeth as they kissed, but Noctis couldn’t complain, not when joy was bubbling up inside him like champagne and the entire world seemed set aglow just from the warmth of Prompto sliding down from the table into his lap.

“Seriously, Noct,” Prompto murmured, eyes closed as Noctis moved away from his lips to nuzzle against his neck. “Keep this up and you’ll never be able to claim you’re not the nerd friend.”

“As long as I’m _your_ nerd friend,” Noctis said, “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll mind.”

-x-

Noctis had been expecting that they’d probably need to stay at least another night at the bed and breakfast they had been so lucky to crash near – what with the snow and the weather and just the plain, base distance between it and Insomnia; Cor Leonis, however, must have driven like a madman, because he was there about an hour before sundown, looking wound up and tense and just generally unhappy to be there.

Noctis stared, from his position on one of the arm chairs in their cabin, straddling across Prompto’s lap as they wrestled for control of his phone, and was very aware, suddenly, of what it would look like to anyone walking in with no context except for the fact that they were now, technically, engaged.

Still, even as Cor’s face became pinched and Prompto damn near turned to stone beneath him, Noctis didn’t make to move away – he wasn’t ashamed, dammit, and he wasn’t going to let the Lord Marshall make him feel guilt when there was no reason for it.

“Oh, my.” Just behind Cor was an elderly woman holding a ring set of keys – the owner of the bed and breakfast, probably, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took them in – she must have been the one to let Cor in, since they _had_ locked the door; as much as he wished otherwise at times, Noctis _was_ a prince, and locked doors was just second nature for him. “I suppose we should have knocked before entering.” She smiled at them. “I’m glad to see you’re up, dear,” she said to Noctis. “This nice gentleman says he’s here to take you home – it’s such a shame about your car.”

Noctis had never, not once in his life, heard Cor referred to as anything close to resembling _nice_ , but he kept his mouth shut, lest smart words lead him to die. “Thank you,” he said instead, entirely sincerely, “for your hospitality.”

She waved him off. “Oh, it was nothing,” she said easily. “You two seem like such good boys – and please, feel free to visit any time!”

“We’ll be sure to keep that in mind, ma’am,” Cor said stoically. “Get your things, and get in the car.”

Prompto was so quick to jump up and damn near jump to _attention_ that he all but shoved Noctis to the floor in his hurry to obey – stumbling and keeping his balance only by gripping the arm of the chair, Noctis would have been mad if it wasn’t for the fact the fear that had flashed across Prompto’s face at Cor’s barked out order had been _hilarious_.

“You too, wayward prince,” Cor snapped. “Stuff, car, _now_.”

Noctis swallowed, and bit back a yelp. “Yes, sir,” he grumbled, and made his way to the bedroom he and Prompto had claimed as their own.

|[-O-]|

Prompto had thought that nothing about the situation he’d found himself in over the past couple of days could ever _possibly_ be more awkward than the long, silent car ride back to Insomnia, with Cor behind the wheel and a million unspoken words and questions floating between them – but, as it turned out (much to his horror) he was very, very _wrong_ about that.

He swallowed, and tried his best to avoid the king’s gaze without it looking like that was actually what he was doing.

At least, he supposed, the audience with him was being held in a private room, secluded somewhere in the citadel – not the throne room, not the council chambers, not the House – at least, not yet; even if there _were_ a bunch of nobles all crammed into the room with them.

After a while, Prompto realised – as much as he was being _stared_ at, he was more being talked about, over, and around, then _too_. It was sort of, almost, a bitter pill to swallow – here they were, discussing _his_ life and future, and he didn’t get a say in it. At all.

He wished Cor was still with them – even if he couldn’t have spoken up in defence of Prompto, silent moral support sounded _great_ about now – but he was only the Marshall, Lord or no, and military might did not a seat in the House of Peers make. He wasn’t a noble, and so he couldn’t sit with them at the big kids table outside of war meetings or a period of martial law, in which he would run the entire kingdom anyway, basically.

He sighed, and slumped deeper into his seat. Special or no, it seemed to these guys that a commoner was still just a commoner.

“– and please, just _look_ at the boy!” The words were a shout, and Prompto automatically snapped back into an alert focus, gaze wheeling frantically about the room to rest on a woman dressed in a heavy cloak of velvet and pressed gold brocade, violet silk twining into a braid about her neck. “It’s obvious where he comes from.” Her lips curled up. “A refugee? Of course, but we _all_ know where _his_ kind flee from, scurrying here like frightened rats. To allow this farce of a marriage?” Her eyes were dark as they locked on Prompto’s – the first direct acknowledgement he’d gotten since entering the citadel, and definitely not the kind he _wanted_. “Trust me, Your Majesty,” she said, words somehow directly for Prompto. “He may seem innocent now, this engagement the cause of lovestruck teenagers, but give it enough time – and blood _will_ tell.”

“It always does,” agreed a man to the right of her, and the tension between the two of them was broken – Prompto tore his gaze from hers like he’d been freed from the mythical stare of a gorgon, and glared down at his lap, heart beating fast and breath coming shallow. His hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists, ignoring the dig of pain as nails dug into skin.

_Blood may tell,_ he thought venomously, _but water seeks its own level_. He didn’t dare speak up to say such a thing, however – bit down on his tongue until he tasted copper to keep himself from snarking back at the woman.

(honestly, this didn’t help – at the taste of blood, his screamers, so bizarrely out of character and silent recently, stirred into a vague excitement at the back of his mind; blood and anger meant a _hunt_.)

Of course, while he couldn’t speak up here – outranked and outmatched about a thousand times over – Noctis was totally capable of doing such a thing, even if it was an incredibly stupid idea and move – and that was exactly what he did, pushing himself jerkily out the chair he had claimed next to Prompto, anger burning in his eyes and turning his cheeks red.

“Are you done?” He asked, and the woman flinched, before Noctis moved his glare to his father. “Are _we_ done?” He gestured between himself and Prompto, and Prompto understood what he was actually asking – _can we leave, or do you actually need us here to yell about us?_

The king’s expression was unfathomable to Prompto – he couldn’t read it at all, but eventually, he nodded slowly. “Do not leave the palace, Noctis,” he said, tone short. “Not even for the outer citadel.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “I won’t, dad,” he said, and turned to Prompto, holding his hand out. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

For a moment, Prompto could only stare, and blink – and then he grinned, and reached up to grasp the offered hand, allowing himself to be tugged up out of his seat and against Noctis’ chest, feigning a little stumble to _really_ sell it.

Scandalised gasps filled the room, low mutterings beginning to echo out, and Prompto had to bite back the wider grin that threatened to overtake his face. As it was, he turned his face to bury it against Noct’s chest, where no one could see his laughter.

King Regis sighed, and when Prompto chanced a glance over – it almost looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes; he had the exact same tightness around his mouth and eyes that Noctis did when he was trying to do the same.

“Noctis,” he said. “Take your friend and get out of here.”

-x-

Hurrying through the halls of the palace, being tugged along by Noctis and the hand he still had wrapped around Prompto’s own, Prompto had approximately no idea where it was he was being led – and nor did he have any chance to ask Noctis about it, since he was charging forward with some single minded intensity that was almost scary; glaives and guards backed away from the crown prince on a mission as his expression screamed _murder_ to anyone that got in his way.

Finally, they came to a stop at a set of doors – made in an almost industrial style, of solid steel, polished to a silver shine.

“Here; give me a sec,” Noctis said, and let go of Prompto’s hand, reaching for a keypad by the door. “It’s DNA coded,” he said quietly. “It recognises Caelum blood only.”

Prompto perked up, eyes alighting on the interesting piece of technology he found before him – but even with curiosity buzzing through him, he couldn’t help but wonder about something more important – what, exactly, was kept in this room, behind such heavy security?

Then the doors slid open, slow and silent, and he didn’t have to wonder anymore.

The light of the crystal shone brightly, wavering, as Prompto stared, and cautiously stepped into the room before Noctis. He couldn’t help but feel like the crystal was judging him, somehow – which was stupid, he knew; for all of its magic and power the crystal were still just a _rock_.

“I don’t think we’re meant to be in here, Noct,” he hissed out, as Noctis gingerly shut the doors that led to the Cryst with a wince. “In fact, I don’t think I’m allowed in here at _all_.”

Noctis shrugged, because he was who he was, and consequences were rarely a thing he thought about in the terms of the immediate. “Didn’t you hear the council?” He asked, and sneered. “All those old timers, trying to find a way to manipulate us into leaving each other – to get my father to banish you to one of the border territories or something – there’s only way we can get them, get _everyone_ , to leave us alone.”

He glanced over at the crystal, but Prompto simply stared at Noct, recalling an old legend that people about the city whispered about the Caelum line, and the crystal. He smiled as he reached to entwine their fingers.

“I know there are traditional vows,” he murmured, and the surprise that flickered across Noctis’ face quickly melted into a warm smile as his fingers tightened around Prompto’s own, “but I don’t know them.”

Noctis shook his head; _don’t worry_. “Just repeat after me,” he said. “Okay?” And Prompto nodded.

Noctis took a deep breath and looked terribly nervous even as he was smiling, and opened his mouth to speak, Prompto saying the words back to him, echoing not even a second behind. “Blood to blood, I am yours. Breath to breath, and heart to heart. Your soul within my keep, and mine in yours.”

Above them, the light of the crystal intensified, shining a beautiful violet-white, and a heat like a brand wrapped itself around the wrist that held his codeprints – the wrist of the hand that Noctis still held.

For a moment, it was like time itself was frozen, hanging suspended much like the crystal that hovered behind them – and then the light dimmed, and Prompto blinked, and he pulled his hand away from Noctis to inspect the burning on his wrist.

Thankfully, the heat, the burn – it radiated from the inner side of his wrist, not the outer, where his codeprints lay; still, he was careful when he unclasped his wristband to make sure that Noctis couldn’t even catch a glimpse of it.

His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat – there, emblazoned across his skin, in pure, almost radiant white (almost as if directly in contrast to the black of his codeprints) was a name in elegant, looping script: _Noctis Lucis Caelum_.

He looked up as, across from him, a grinning Noct held out his own hand – _Prompto Argentum_ scrawled across his own wrist in a softly glowing white.

“We can’t take this back, you know,” Prompto said, and nearly flinched as the ambience of the room and moment was broken with his voice and words. The Cryst seemed like a place where words were swallowed by silence – nervously, he stepped closer to Noctis as he redid the clasps on his wristband, and reached down to entwine their hands once more, fingers locking together and thumb rubbing circles across his name on Noct’s skin.

“Of course I know,” Noctis said softly, and reached up with his free hand to cradle Prompto’s face. “My dad still has Aulea Procelle on his wrist, you know. And even after all these years, it’s never once lost its glow.” He sighed, and gazed up at the crystal. “It takes vows seriously,” he said. “And bonded by it, we’ll never be apart.” He slipped the tips of his fingers under the leather of Prompto’s wrist band to graze the skin with his name on it, and Prompto’s mind blanked, fuzzing out to white noise – when he came back to himself, the air smelt of ozone and the taste of magic was thick on his tongue. “It’s a sort of equal exchange thing, you know?” Noctis smirked. “Normally only the Caelum line and those the king chooses can warp – but with this, your part of the family, technically. You’ll never be able to use _all_ of the powers of the crystal, but warping? Totally a possibility now.”

Prompto paled, and from the way Noct’s grin widened, he’d totally spotted it. “Uh, nope,” Prompto said quickly. “Nu uh. I’m _good_ , dude.”

Noct’s smirk wasn’t fading. “Scaredy cat,” he teased.

“I’ll admit to that,” Prompto said easily. “It’s not like my fears are without reason, mister _look at me warp into moving traffic_.”

“Hey, that was once, and that was _me_ ,” Noct pointed out. “I trust that you have more than enough sense to _not_ do that sort of thing.”

“Noctis, I was the one who _dared_ you to do it!”

“Huh,” Noctis said. “It occurs to me that we may, collectively, be bad influences.”

“Probably,” Prompto agreed, and then laughed, leaning forward to collapse against Noct. He stumbled briefly, trying to balance the weight of both of them together – and after he’d stilled, he wrapped his arms around Prompto, like Prompto was to him.

A hug was probably a weird way to finish off an elopement – and Prompto held no delusions that they would be given _any_ sort of honeymoon; he could see Cor’s disbelieving glare already – but it was him and Noctis. It was _them_. Some sort of giant declaration of love or universe shattering kiss wasn’t their kind of love – but this; warm affection and familiarity wrapped up in an embrace that pulled them tight together – yeah, that was it.

That was _them_.

“We’re going to make this _work_ ,” Noctis said, voice fierce – a vow, if Prompto had ever heard one. He eyed the crystal, and remembered what Noctis had said about promises made before it.

“Together,” he swore. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -fin-


End file.
